USTRffl  L 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


The  Gastronomy  Collection  of 
George  Holl 

AGRIC. 
LIBRARY 


/  - 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2006  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/bachelorthechafiOOwelcrich 


AN   AUTHORITY. 


THE  BACHELOR 


AND 


THE   CHAFING   DISH 


WITH  A  DISSERTATION  ON  CHUMS 


DESHLER  WELCH 


CONTAINING   SOME  VALUABLE  RECIPES   GATHERED  FROM  FAS- 
CINATING SOURCES  IN  COOKERY — TRIUMPHS  OF  WELL- 
KNOWN    BON   VIVANTS    IN    CLUBS,    YACHTING 
CIRCLES,  ARMY  AND  NAVY,  AND  THE 

DREAMS   ©F   FAIR  WOMEN 

HEAVEN   BLESS  *EM! 

DRAWINGS  BV  FRANCIS   DAY  AND    GEORGE   R.    HALM 


F.  TENNYSON  NEELY 


NEW  YORK 


1896 


CHICAGO 


Copyright,  1895,  by 
F.  TENNYSON  NEELY 


Zo  l)f  <• 


AGRIC. 
LIBRARY 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

PART   I 
THE  CHUMSHIP 


Entre  Nous 

Chasing  the  Rabbw     . 

Mushrooms  for  *'Jim" 

Jim's  Dinner 

My  Scotch  Friend 

The  Lord  Harry 

Camping  Out  with   "Ed 

A  Dinner  in  a  Slot    . 
Nym  Crinkle's  Diapason 
The  Little  Table  d'Hote 
Fitznoodle's  Chafing  Dish 
Boiling  Things    . 
A  Lunch  with  Her    . 


I 
5 

12 
14 
17 
23 
26 

31 

35 
41 
44 
47 
52 


injooo*  o>i 


vi  Table  of  Contents 

PART  II 
THE  TABLE 


PAGE 


Language  of  the  Menu  .  .  .  .57 
Sayings  of  Savarin  .  .  .  .  .66 
Salads  -and  Sauces      .         .         .         .         .69 

The  Devil  Dish 79 

The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing  Dish      .     82 

***  Under  the  last  heading  are  given  more  than  loo  recipes  for  the 
Chafing  Dish,  the  majority  of  them  especially  contributed  to  this  book. 

L'Envoi 122 

Index 137 


I  HAVE  more  than  once  observed  in  pub- 
lic prints,  of  big  and  little  circulation,  that 
although  the  art  of  cookery  ought  to  be  the  most 
attractive  study  in  domestic  economy,  yet  women  as 
a  general  rule  manifest  less  interest  in  it  than  men. 
In  fact,  the  most  important  piece  of  machinery  in 
woman's  domain  is  usually  relegated  to  an  engineer 
of  faultlessly  persuasive  ignorance.  The  more  she 
may  be  mentally  equipped  to  preside  over  the 
kitchen  realm  the  less  she  seems  inclined  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  it.  On  the  other  hand,  men  ap- 
pear to  have  an  instinctive  fondness  for  meddling 
with  everything  appertaining  to  the  art  of  cookery, 
for  such  it  is  come  to  be  under  ingenious  skill  and 
logical  deduction.  I  have  partaken  of  a  more  elab- 
orate and  tasty  dinner  gotten  up  in  a  yacht's  small 
galley  than  I  have  ever  had  from  "  Bridget's  "  great 
kitchen  with  all  her  conveniences,  and  I  have  at- 
tended informal  dinners  where  everything  served 
was  cooked  directly  in  front  of  me  on  a  chafing- 
dish  with  but  very  little  trouble,  that  produced  a 
feast  worthy  of  the  gods. 


2  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

Since  the  ethics  of  Hafiz,  the  most  epicurean  of 
Persian  poets,  including  that  triumphant  philoso- 
pher, Brillat  Savarin,  the  most  notable  of  writers 
have  also  been  famous  cooks.  Dumas  took  his 
greatest  delight  in  superintending  the  actual  cook- 
ing of  the  simplest  dejeutier  or  a  banquet,  were  it 
in  his  own  or  his  neighbor's  house.  The  late 
George  Augustus  Sala  was  not  only  a  most  ac- 
complished cook,  but  his  dissertations  on  the  sub- 
ject were  exceedingly  infectious. 

There  may,  of  course,  be  too  much  "  larnin' " 
even  in  cookery.     As  Goldsmith  wrote : 

"  You've  got  an  odd  something — a  kind  of  discerning — 
A  relish — a  taste — sickened  over  by  learning  !  " 

Then  again  the  poet-chef  may  construct  his 
dishes  so  elaborately  that 

"  Though  my  stomach  was  sharp,  I  could  scarce  help  regret- 
ting 
To  spoil  such  a  delicate  picture  by  eating  ! " 

I  have  had  the  privilege  of  knowing  many  dis- 
tinguished men  in  various  walks  of  life,  and  I  think 
the  most  beguiling  hours  in  their  company  were 
when  some  new  culinary  "creation  "  was  under  dis- 
cussion. No  man  understood  the  value  of  a  genial 
host  in  this  respect  better  than  the  elder  Sothern, 
nor  could  any  man  turn  a  spit  with  more  energetic 


Entre  Nous,  5 

interest  than  Dion  Boucicault.  But  me.n*s  stom- 
achs have  always  been  their  weaknesses,  and  it  has 
fairly  been  said  that  if  women  wished  to  control 
the  lords  of  creation  it  was  only  necessary  to  treat 
them  as  kindly  as  they  would  the  brute — feed 
them ! 

The  new  chafing-dish — which  is  a  most  delightful 
evolution  —  is  accomplishing  much  as  a  civilizer. 
It  is  certainly  an  important  factor  nowadays  in 
breaking  formality  and  bringing  people  around  a 
festive  board  under  the  happiest  sort  of  circum- 
stances. Its  very  general  use  by  both  men  and 
women,  its  convenience  for  a  quick  supper  or  for 
a  dainty  luncheon,  and  its  success  as  an  economical 
provider  where  it  is  necessary — all  this  is  putting 
the  chafing-dish  upon  a  queenly  dais. 

The  idea  of  making  this  little  book  has  been  sug- 
gested to  me  over  and  over  again  by  various  friends 
with  whom  I  have  had  the  privilege  of  testing  many 
of  the  recipes  given.  They  have  in  every  instance 
been  a  happy  success  in  the  presence  of  carefully 
scrutinizing  don  vivants  on  board  of  yachts,  in 
private  dining-rooms  of  many  clubs,  in  bachelor 
apartments,  and  among  clever  men  and  charming 
women  at  their  homes. 

In  addition  to  such  recipes  suited  to  the  chafing- 


4  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafi7ig-dish, 

dish,  a  number  of  directions  are  given  for  the  prep- 
aration of  sauces,  suggestions  for  the  bachelor's 
larder,  and  various  hints  on  miscellaneous  subjects, 
that  will  be  found  more  or  less  apropos,  to  which 
is  added  a  glossary  of  the  various  terms  used  in 
cooking.  This  will  be  found  especially  convenient 
to  the  amateur  chef  in  the  construction  of  a  menu- 
card. 


Not  very  many 
or  cooked  cheese 
most  indigestible 
dom    suggested 
proper     article     of 
supper.     But   its 
came  with  the  intro- 
chop-houses   and 
tanism.     It  can  cer- 
king  of  the  chafing- 
skilfully,    is   as   di- 
table.    Nearly  every 
his   o  w  n    w  a  y   of 
bit  to  be  the  best, 
company  during  its 
usually   the    object 
that    becomes 
ing.     After  numer- 
various  times  and  in 
under  the  discussion 


^  years  ago  toasted 
M*  was  considered  a 
dish,  and  was  sel- 
in  this  country  as  a 
food  for  a  late-night 
sudden  popularity 
duction  of  English 
latter-day  cosmopoli- 
tainly  be  called  the 
dish,  and,  if  made 
gestible  as  it  is  pala- 
amateurcook  believes 
making  a  Welsh  rab- 
and  in  an  assembled 
preparation  he  is 
of  a  critical  comment 
humorously  provok- 
ous  experiments  at 
many  localities,  and 
of  men  and  women  of 


well-known  good  judgment,  I  am  convinced  that 
this  is  the  most  satisfactory  recipe  for  its  making. 
Let  us  say  the  rabbit  is  for  six  persons. 
Two  pounds  of  fresh  American  cheese  should  be  in 


6  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

readiness,  well  cut  up  or  grated.  First  put  into  the 
dish,  immediately  over  the  fire,  a  lump  of  butter 
about  the  size  of  an  ^gg.  Rub  this  around  in  the 
pan  until  it  begins  to  simmer.  Now  add  to  this 
a  smooth  teaspoon  of  paprika,  a  couple  of  table- 
spoons of  beer  or  ale,  and  mix  well  with  a  spoon. 
Empty  the  cheese  into  this  and  manipulate  it  well 
until  it  becomes  the  consistency  of  batter,  mean- 
while adding  more  ale  by  degrees.  Put  in  a  modi- 
cum of  salt,  and  either  a  tablespoonful  of  prepared 
English  mustard  or  two  of  the  French,  and  stir 
well  until  the  cheese  begins  to  bubble.  There  are 
some  people  who  like  the  added  flavor  of  Worces- 
tershire sauce.  I  never  had  a  rabbit  become  stringy 
if,  at  this  stage,  I  took  care  of  it  and  let  it  thor- 
oughly cook  while  stirring.  Have  your  bread  or 
toast  ready,  and  with  a  fork  plunge  each  piece  into 
the  rabbit,  thoroughly  covering  it,  and  then  quickly 
serve  on  a  heated  plate.  I  do  not  think  it  makes 
much  difference  whether  ale  or  beer  is  used — in 
fact,  milk  is  an  excellent  substitute.  Paprika  is 
preferable  to  red  pepper.  //  actually  helps  to  digest 
the  cheese.  Ale  or  beer  is  the  only  thing  that 
should  be  drunk  in  accompaniment. 

Many  a  Welsh  rabbit  is  ruined  by  not  being  well 
stirred.  It  should  even  be  beaten.  On  this  hang 
the  law  and  the  prophets. 


Chasing  the  Rabbit.  !j 

"A  golden  buck"  is  simply  a  Welsh  rabbit 
with  a  poached  tgg  dropped  upon  it. 

The  late  William  J.  Florence,  the  actor,  once 
asked  me  for  a  good  recipe  for  a  Welsh  rabbit.  I 
was  prompted  to  send  him  the  following  : 

Should  you  ask  me,  friend  and  actor, 
"  Whence  the  flavor  of  the  rabbit, 
Whence  its  odor  and  its  smoothness, 
Whence  its  subtle  fascination  ?  " 
I  should  answer,  I  should  tell  you  : 
*'  From  the  method  of  its  mixture, 
From  the  choice  of  its  ingredients. 
And  the  time  of  introduction, 
This  the  way  to  make  a  rabbit : 


*  Give  me  of  your  cheese,  O  grocer  \ 
Good  fresh  dairy  cheese  domestic — 
Cheese  quite  fresh,  not  old  and  mouldy.* 
Cut  it  then  in  dainty  fragments — 
Fragments  cut  in  sizes  equal ; 
Light  the  spirit-lamp  and  place  it 
'Neath  the  blazer  brightly  gleaming ; 
Then  a  lump  of  butter  placing 
In  the  blazer,  watch  it  creaming, 
Creaming  in  the  heated  blazer  ; 
Then  with  deftness  add  the  substance — 
Creamy  substance,  cut  in  fragments. 


The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

Then  when  it  doth  melt  and  thicken, 
Pour  on  ale — the  ale  called  Bass's  ; 
Gently  add  in  scanty  spoonfuls, 
Lest  you  chill  the  substance  melting— 
Always  stirring',  stirring  always. 

When  the  cheese  to  heat  surrenders. 
Drop  into  this  dish  so  tempting 
Two  teaspoonfuls,  measured  finely, 
Only  two  of  Coleman's  mustard. 
This  you  add  to  keep  dyspepsia, 
Grim  dyspepsia,  from  partakers — 
All  this  while  keep  up  the  stirring. 
Always  stirring,  stirring  always. 
Add  a  touch  of  red  paprika. 
Made  from  pepper-tips  Hungarian ; 
This  the  foe  of  indigestion, 
Deadly  foe  of  indigestion. 

Now  you  stir  with  vim  and  ardor. 

For  the  rabbit  nears  completion. 

And  the  appetites  are  whetted 

By  the  subtle,  faint  aroma. 

Plates,  hot  plates,  must  be  beside  you. 

Crowned  with  buttered  toast  and  waiting 

For  the  baptism  of  the  rabbit 

Hot  and  smooth,  and  O  !  so  fragrant ! 

Quickly  bid  the  guests  assail  it 
Ere  a  breath  of  air  can  chill  it ; 
Ale  or  beer  attend  the  feasting. 
And  delay  is  most  disastrous ; 


Chasing  the  Rabbit,  ^ 

Plates  and  toast  and  beer  and  glasses 
Must  be  ready  at  your  elbow — 
Quickly  served  and  quickly  eaten, 
And  the  grace  be  spoken  after. 
This  the  secret  of  the  rabbit." 

Shade  of  Longfellow!  May  I  be  forgiven  for 
this! 

But  it  is  no  wonder  too  many  cooks  spoil  the 
broth !  I  have  eaten  some  very  extraordinary 
Welsh  rabbits.  As  a  matter  of  curiosity,  I  give 
the  following,  which  I  find  in  the  autobiography  of 
Brillat  Savarin  :  "  Take  as  many  eggs  as  you  wish, 
according  to  the  number  of  guests,  and  weigh  them; 
then  take  a  piece  of  cheese  weighing  a  third  of  the 
weight  of  the  eggs,  and  a  slice  of  butter  weighing  a 
sixth  ;  beat  the  eggs  well  up  in  a  saucepan,  after 
which  put  in  the  butter  and  cheese,  the  latter  either 
grated  or  chopped  up  very  small ;  place  the  sauce- 
pan on  a  good  fire,  and  stir  it  with  a  flat  spoon 
until  the  mixture  becomes  sufficiently  thick  and 
soft ;  add  a  little  salt  and  a  large  portion  of  pepper, 
and  serve  up  in  a  hot  dish." 

According  to  a  recent  English  writer,  "  a  Welsh 
rarebit  is  not  reckoned  as  among  the  refinements 
of  the  table,  but  is  still  held  in  great  repute  by 
gentlemen  of  the  old  school,  who  desire  a  stimulant 


10  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

after  dinner."  So,  as  a  curious  stimulant,  I  give 
"  Dr.  Kitchiner's  "  recipe.  Whetlier  the  good  doc- 
tor's name  is  a  humorous  nom  de  plume  I  know  not. 
Itiit  is  his  own,  the  gods  give  him  joy  !  Here  it  is  : 
"  Cut  a  slice  of  bread,  about  half  an  inch  thick  ; 
'pare  off  the  crust,  and  toast  it  very  lightly  on  both 
si<tes  ;  do  not  harden  or  scorch  it.  Cut  a  slice  of 
rich  cheese  a  quarter  of  an  inch  thick,  less  than  the 
bread  by  half  an  inch  all  round  ;  it  must  be  per- 
fectly sound  and  the  rind  be  cut  off.  Lay  it  on  the 
bread,  and  put  into  a  cheese-toaster ;  carefully 
watch  it  that  it  does,  not  burn,  and  stir  the  cheese 
gently  with  a  spoon  to  prevent  a  skin  forming  on 
the  surface.  As  soon  as  it  is  thoroughly  melted 
and  hot,  serve  with  mustard  and  pepper." 

It  seems  to  be  a  question  of  doubt  by  the  average 
cheese-lover  whether  to  call  it  "rarebit"  or  "rabbit." 
It  is  most  certainly  a  Welsh  rabbit,  just  the  same 
as  the  addition  of  an  ^g%  makes  it  a  "golden 
buck,"  and  nothing  else.  We  also  know  that  a 
**  Scotch  woodcock "  is  quite  a  jocular  treatment 
of  an  appetizing  dish  in  which  the  real  bird  does 
not  appear. 

"  It  may  not  be  just  to  judge  others  by  your  own 
weaknesses,  but  it's  safe,"  a  clever  woman  once  re- 


Chasing  the  Rabbit.  II 

marked  to  me,  and  I  think  it  is  quite  likely  to  be  so 
in  almost  everything  but  eating.  But  one  must 
be  Napoleonic  in  making  Welsh  rabbits  before  a 
number  of  interested  guests  ;  one  must  also  be 
royal.  To  my  taste,  there  must  be  an  apparent 
prodigality  in  the  use  of  the  condiments  here  set 
down. 


9f 


So  far,  O  reader,  you  must  have 
observed  that  I  have  not  written  as  an 
^••'  "  autocrat  ;  at  least,  not  entirely  so.  Pray 
give  me  credit  for  that  !  Rather  would  I  write 
as  Horace,  with  simple  ejaculations  of  delight  in 
conjunctive  ;  as  /  like  it.  I  am  not  a  maker  of 
cook-books.  I  have  not  a  single  ambition  in  that 
direction,  and  what  I  may  wish  to  say  under  the 
warm  glow  of  conviviality  will  not  partake  of  cold- 
blooded prescription,  all  well  indexed,  and  set  up 
in  oil-cloth  covering  for  ready  reference  by  Bridget 
in  her  basement  kitchen. 

Let  us  come  to  our  bachelor  apartment.  Jim — 
big,  bustling,  hearty  fellow  as  he  is — has  come  in. 
I  have  been  buried  for  the  last  half-hour  in  Charles 
Lamb's  dissertation  on  "Roast  Pig." 

"  I  say,  old  chap,"  says  he,  "  I'm  deucedly  hun- 
gry— what's  in  the  larder  ?  '* 

*'  Nothing  but  mushrooms,"  I  reply. 

''Ye  gods!" 

I  knock  the  ashes  from  my  pipe,  and  poke  the  fire 
a  bit. 

<'  Well,  you  are  a  good  'un,"  says  Jim.     *'  Noth- 


Mushrooms  for  "yim.**  13 

ing  could  be  better.  But  oh,  for  a  broiled  mush- 
room on  toast ! " 

"You  shall  have  it." 

"  In  a  chafing-dish  ?     Come  off,  old  man  !  " 

This  is  how  I  did  it : 

In  the  first  place,  they  were  fresh — ^just  from  the 
field  where  I  had  found  them.  Into  the  chafing- 
dish  I  put  some  sweet  olive-oil — just  enough  to 
flood  it.  Then  a  teaspoonful  of  paprika,  a  divina- 
tion of  black  pepper,  and  a  pinch  of  salt.  Into  this 
I  placed  the  mushrooms,  hollow  part  upward,  put 
on  the  cover,  and  they  browned  in — well,  say  ten 
minutes.  Turning  them  into  a  covered  dish,  I  put 
two  slices  of  bread  into  the  hot  pan  with  half  an 
ounce  of  butter.  In  a  few  seconds  they  were  heated 
sufficiently  to  serve  the  mushrooms  upon. 


If 

It  is  useless  to  set  down 
-  y^-,mmi^^^^iis  the  culinary  invention  of 
ff^llJDlllpr  |iiiiiii'''i'W'"'"4'  such  a  connoisseur,  for 
instance,  as  George  Au- 
•^  gustus  Sala,  before  a  hungry  canal-boat 
driver,  and  look  expectantly  for  an  intellectual 
smile  of  satisfaction.  Some  men  simply  eat  to  live 
until  another  day,  not  with  the  cheering  prospect 
that  they  may  eat  again.  To-morrow's  meals  are,  to 
many,  a  tiresome  necessity.  And,  too,  I  do  not  care 
for  the  glutton  who  lives  to  eat  ;  but  give  me  a 
moderate  man  who  thinks  well,  and,  when  free  from 
his  professional  duties,  says  to  you,  with  a  hearty 
slap  and  just  a  suspicion  of  a  smack  to  his  lips, 
"  Look  here,  old  man,  what  do  you  say  to  a  chop  ? 
I  know  the  cosiest  place  in  town — something  to  see 
while  you  eat — a  regular  crank  on  paintings  and 
etchings,  don't  you  know — the  best  men  go  there, 
and  all  that." 

That's  the  kind  of  a  fellow  Jim  is.  He  talks 
just  that  way,  and  never  speaks  about  anything 
more  serious  when  he  is  hungry  than  a  chop  or  a 
steak;  but  when  you  are  seated  at  the  little  pol- 
ished  table  with   him,  he    has   such  an  insidious 


Jim's  Dinner,  1 5 

way  of  making  you  believe  you  are  hungrier  than 
you  are,  and  that  you  know  a  great  deal  more 
about  the  proper  thing  than  you  do,  that  the  first 
thing  you  know  "you  are  like  a  house  afire"  with 
enthusiasm,  as  he  used  to  say. 

Sometimes  Jim  would  be  hard  up  at  an  exceed- 
ingly unfortunate  time — just  when  I  was.  On  one 
of  these  occasions  he  said  to  me  :  "  We'll  have  to  go 
it  light,  old  man — simply  a  snack  of  something  or 
other."  Then  we  would  have  a  bisque  by  the  way 
of  a  soup,  with  some  toast  and  anchovy  paste,  to 
start  off  on.  Of  course  nothing  could  be  better ;  it 
was  all  so  deucedly  appetizing  !  Then  would  come 
some  calf's  tongue  in  brown  sauce,  with  a  trium- 
phant tinge  of  flavor  that  Jim  had  suggested  him- 
self. Then  a  salad — chicory  with  plain  dressing — 
followed  by  Rocquefort  cheese  that  was  solemnly 
declared  to  be  genuine.  Meanwhile  we  had  com- 
pletely destroyed  a  bottle  of  Chablis,  and  ended 
with  black  coffee  and  Benedictine,  and  a  cigar  that 
he  knew  how  to  recommend.  There  was  not  much 
variety  to  that,  was  there  ?  Oh,  but  it  was  all  very 
hearty  and  chummy,  and  we  would  wax  warm  in 
friendship  over  it.  Does  any  woman  know  that.^ 
Does  any  woman  realize  the  honest,  pure  feeling  of 
affection  that  one  man  may  have  for  another — that 
feeling  that  is  never  lost  as  long  as  life  lasts?    I 


l6  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

think  Jim  enjoyed  my  enjoyment  more  than  he  did 
his  own  ;  I  know  he  did.  He  left  the  table  with  a 
worried  brow,  and  I  saw  him  talk  to  the  proprietor 
— old  Gerot  gone  to  his  reward — then  he  returned 
with  a  smile,  and  "it's  all  right  until  to-morrow  !  " 
Emerson  has  said,  "  We  walk  alone  in  the  world." 
I  don't  believe  it. 

*'  Men  talk  of  unkind  hearts,  kind  deeds 
With  coldness  still  returning, 
Alas  !  the  gratitude  of  men 
Has  often  left  me  mourning." 


ir|Ay?5CoTeiifpRlEND 

"  Musing  sit  I  on  the  settle, 

By  the  fireUght's  cheerful  blaze, 
Listening  to  the  busy  kettle 
--=%^__  Humming  long- forgotten  lays." 

— Heine, 

It  was  blowing  great  guns  outside  one  night,  and 
I  was  just  in  for  a  lazy  time  of  it  with  a  "  church- 
warden" and  a  "  hot  Scotch,"  when  my  friend  Hen- 
derson squeezed  through  the  doorway,  and  instantly 
filled  the  room  with  his  ruddy  glow  of  geniality. 
From  a  capacious  pocket  in  his  great  topcoat  he 
drew  forth  a  sealed  quart-can  and  placed  it  on  the 
table  with  a  bang. 

"  There  !  "  said  he,  "  is  something  direct  from 
Glasgow  ;  you  never  tasted  the  like  of  it.  But 
give  me  a  Scotch  haggis  when  I'm  hungry,  and  I 
call  it  the  *  hecht '  of  hospitality  !  " 

"  And  what  is  a  haggis,  pray  ?  "  I  asked  with  some 
astonishment,  surveying  the  object  as  I  might  a 
can  of  dynamite. 

"  A  haggis  ?  "  Then  he  stretched  himself  on  the 
settle,  lit  a  warden,  and  said  with  an  injured  air  : 
"  I  thought  better  than  that  of  you,  old  chap.  I 
knew  you  never  tasted  one,  but  it's  not  half  so 
mysterious  as  your   American   hash.     A  haggis  ? 


l8  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

Why,  it's  the  stomach  of  a  sheep  filled  with  its 
other  good  things — heart,  tongue,  and  liver,  all  cut 
up ;  then  there's  added  to  it  a  bit  of  bacon,  eggs, 
anchovies,  wine,  and  pepper  and  salt !  Then  you 
boil  it  for  two  hours  ! " 

"  That's  pleasant,"  I  ejaculated. 

"Of  course  it  is,"  said  Henderson.  "Why,  man 
alive,  it's  the  pleasantest  thing  on  earth  !  " 

"  I  mean — sitting  around  for  a  couple  of  hours — 
waiting  for  it  to  boil  !  " 

"  But  if  /  don't  object  to  sitting  around  why 
should  you  ?  Come,  don't  you  think  you're  a  bit 
unreasonable  for  a  man  who  doesn't  know  anything 
about  haggis?  Besides,  what  is  time  made  for, 
anyway  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  I  know,  but " — I  put  in — "  it  isn't  the 
time  so  much  as  it  is  the  waiting.  Now,  look  at  it 
seriously,  old  fellow.  Say,  for  instance,  we  start  in  : 
you  tell  that  old  Scotch  story  of  yours  about  Doc- 
tor McLeod's  Sunday  out;  that  will  take  twenty 
minutes,  possibly  half  an  hour,  if  you're  in  the 
humor  of  it.  After  that  you'll  tell  me  George 
Augustus  Sala's  conversation  with  Sardou  about 
French  plays  being  prejudicial  to  the  morals  of  the 
young  ;  that  certainly  won't  take  ten  minutes,  if  you 
get  excited  over  it.  Then  you'll  follow  with  your 
inimitable,  and,  I  may  say,  superb,  description  of 


My  Scotch  Friejid.  19 

the  Maharajah's  palace  ;  that's  another  twenty  min- 
utes.    Now,  what  are  we  to  do  the  next  hour  ?  " 

This  was  too  much.  My  friend  snapped  off 
his  churchwarden,  and,  as  he  Ht  up  another,  said  : 
"Well,  I'll  be  damned!  Can't j'^/^  do  something? 
If  I  provide  the  haggis,  it  seems  to  me  you  might 
at  least  wait  until  it  cooks  ! "  Then  he  became  so 
earnest  that  he  went  off  into  the  most  unintelligible 
Scotch  dialect.  Henderson  always  talked  in  another 
language  when  he  got  mad.  Finally,  he  ended  up 
understandingly  :  "  When  you've  been  aboard  my 
yacht,  haven't  /  waited  around  an  old  iron  anchor 
hours  just  for  a  breeze  that  you  might  enjoy  your- 
self ?     How  was  it  that  day  off  Noshone  Island  ? " 

"  Yes,  how  was  it  that  day  when  /  got  up  a  sur- 
prise dinner  for  your  birthday,  and  you  went  off  in 
some  other  fellow's  yacht — and  didn't  turn  up  ? 
Didn't  /  do  the  waiting  ?  " 

"  Well,  I'll  admit  that  was  a  surprise,"  said  Hen- 
derson with  a  make-believe  humbleness.  Then, 
suddenly,  with  a  merry  twinkle,  "  Come,  old  chap, 
you  never  would  take  a  chaffing.  Why,  that  hag- 
gis has  been  cooked  !     It  only  needs  steaming  up  !  " 

"  It  isn't  everybody  who  can  appreciate  a  hag- 
gis," said  my  Scotch  friend  half  an  hour  afterward. 
"  You  do.    I  can  see  that." 


20  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

"It  depends  greatly  on  the  condition  of  one's 
stomach,  I  should  say,"  I  said  timidly.  I  always 
tried  to  enjoy  everything  the  way  he  did. 

"  Yes  ;  it  does  depend  on  the  stomach.  I  can  see 
that.  This  one  which  you  have  just  eaten  is  capi- 
tal." 

We  puffed  our  pipes  in  silence  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. Then,  after  a  new  brew  of  hot  Scotch, 
Henderson  said  :  "  Now  let  me  fix  you  up  some- 
thing— just  to  top  off  with.  We  will  have  a  Scotch 
woodcock  ! " 

"  Let's  talk  about  it  instead.  Really,  I  haven't 
an  appetite.     What  is  it  ? " 

He  gave  me  a  look  of  despair,  and  then  resign- 
edly said,  between  puffs :  "  If  you  want  some- 
thing appetizing,  you  couldn't  think  of  anything 
better." 

As  for  me,  I  never  could  get  up  much  interest 
eating  anything  when  once  I  had  dined.  But  I'll 
challenge  any  one  to  withstand  Henderson's  seduc- 
tive ways.  I  have  always  thought  that  if  I  were  a 
housekeeper  I  would  do  all  my  marketing  just  be- 
fore the  meal  hour.  Even  a  raw  carrot  or  a  turnip 
had  charms  for  me  then.  Many  a  time,  on  such 
occasions,  have  I  wondered  why  it  was  difficult  for 
even  the  most  blase  housekeeper  to  resist  the  tempta- 
tion pf  a  fine-looking  head  of  cabbage. 


My  Scotch  Friend.  21 

My  friend  was  certainly  a  gourmand.  He  never 
seemed  to  suffer  the  pangs  of  indigestion.  No 
matter  how  sumptuously  he  had  eaten  he  would 
enter  into  the  most  happy  kind  of  a  discussion  con- 
cerning why  a  well-regulated  larder  ought  to  be  a 
housewife's  throne.  "  And  yet,"  he  would  say, 
"  I  never  saw  a  woman  take  a  real  heart  interest  in 
her  kitchen,  as  I  would  in  my  ship's  galley.  The 
average  cook  in  a  private  house  wouldn't  be  tol- 
erated in  a  man's  systematic  domain.  Now,  look 
at  Richard,  my  steward  !  Why,  he  has  a  little  box 
of  a  place — you  could  hardly  turn  around  in  it! 
Yet  what  of  that  dinner  I  gave  aboard  the  other 
night  to  two  and  twelve  club  fellows  ?  Didn't  we 
have  a  dozen  courses  ?  If  you'd  looked  into  that 
galley  an  hour  after,  there  wouldn't  have  been  a 
sign  of  it !  Ten  to  one  Richard  would  have  been 
found  reading  *  The  Wreck  of  the  Grosvenor  ! '  " 

"The  fact  of  it  is,"  my  friend  went  on,  "men 
cook  to  please  themselves  and  women  cook  to 
please  others.  After  all,  I  think  women  prefer  tea 
and  toast.  Now  let  me  tell  you  how  to  make  a 
Scotch  woodcock  :  First  toast  and  butter  some 
bread  on  both  sides,  and  spread  on  this  some 
chopped  anchovies.  Beat  up  the  yolks  of  four  eggs 
ivith  half  a  pint  of  cream,  and  thicken  this  for 


22  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

a  few  moments  in  your  chafing-dish,  without  letting 
it  come  to  a  boil.  Arrange  your  small  pieces  of 
toast  into  a  little  pyramid  and  pour  this  over 
it.  Then  you'll  want  something  else  to  eat  after- 
ward ! " 


The  Invalid's  Tray  "  is  worth  talk- 
ing about.  ■  I  have  a  literary  chum 
<\5?  who  got  ill  simply  because  he  didn't  eat 
enough  !  He  had  the  funniest  little  "den" 
in  town.  It  wasn't  much  more  than  ten  feet 
square,  and  Harry  slept  there,  wrote  there,  and  had 
long  chummy  talks  with  me  when  we  both  ought 
to  have  been  in  bed  hours  ago.  He  would  begin 
his  day  of  work  on  a  boiled  egg,  a  cup  of  coffee, 
and  a  loaf  of  "  home  made."  He  would  keep  his 
larder  in  a  soap  box  fastened  on  the  ledge  of  the 
window  outside,  and  respectfully  called  it  his  refrig- 
erator. He  paid  about  two  dollars  a  week  for  his 
quarters,  and  laid  other  dollars  by  in  the  bank. 
During  the  day  he  would  forget  himself  in  his  novel- 
ettes, verses,  and  "  pot  boilers  "  generally  until  it  got 
too  late  to  get  lunch.  He  would  dine  around  the 
corner  at  a  dyspeptic  faMe  dlwte,  and  regale  me  after- 
wards with  the  astounding  menu,  including  wine,  for 
fifty  cents  !  He  had  the  most  wonderful  system  for 
his  literary  business.  He  could  lay  his  hands  on  any 
subject  as  soon  as  he  thought  about  it,  by  referring 
to  the  contents  of  a  tin  cigarette  box,  and  he  kept 
a  lot  of  these  little  boxes,  all  duly  labelled,  in  vari- 


24  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

ous  corners  of  the  room.  It  used  to  cheer  me  up 
a  great  deal  to  have  an  old-fashioned  talk  with 
Harry.  I  would  come  away  feeling  that  if  I 
wanted  to  obtain  the  earth  all  I  had  to  do  was  to 
think  that  it  was  perfectly  possible.  He  gave  me 
so  many  tips  ! 

And  he  had  such  clever,  original  ideas  !  If 
you'd  go  to  him  and  tell  him  your  painful  story 
about  unrequited  love,  it  would  seem  the  simplest 
thing  imaginable,  after  you  had  laid  it  all  before 
him  and  got  his  advice,  to  win  the  girl  by  simply 
turning  your  hand  over,  as  it  were. 

Every  once  in  a  while,  when  literary  work  began 
to  be  financially  slow,  Harry  would  accept  some 
theatrical  engagement.  He  was  a  first-rate  actor 
of  the  Wyndham  type,  and  had  been  brought  up  in 
the  atmosphere  of  the  greenroom.  But  he  seemed 
singularly  unambitious  in  that  direction,  and  would 
only  speak  of  it  as  "  going  on  simply  to  help  mat- 
ters." On  such  occasions  he  would  dine  around 
like  the  veritable  lord  I  had  come  to  dub  him. 

It  was  after  one  of  these  periods  of  extravagance 
that  Harry  "took  ill."  After  seriously  diagnosing 
his  case,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  all 
because  of  his  stomach.  Then  I  insisted  upon 
treating  him  as  an  invalid,  and  suggested  certain 
things  for  him  accordingly.    The  first  really  tempt- 


The  Lord  Harry,  25 

ing  dish  I  gave  him  was  "  Crofite  clams,"  then  a 
"  Billy  Deutsch  ragout,"  and  very  frequently  a 
"  Bill  Traver's  cocktail"  There  was  a  seductive 
sound  about  the  latter  that  caused  Harry  to  look 
anxiously  waiting  when  I  first  mentioned  it.  But 
it  was  nothing  but  very  hot  water. 

But  the  thing  that  really  saved  Harry's  life  (and 
it  helped  me  a  good  bit,  too)  was  a  brandy  mixture. 
He  liked  it  so  well  that  he  thought  it  ought  to  be 
printed  in  some  way  for  the  good  of  other  poor 
devils  in  distress.  So  here  it  is :  Mix  a  gill  of 
brandy  and  a  gill  of  cinnamon  water,  yolks  of  two 
eggs,  half  an  ounce  of  powdered  sugar,  two  drops 
of  oil  of  cinnamon.  I  told  Harry  to  take  three 
tablespoonfuls  of  this  every  quarter  of  an  hour  if 
he  was  very  exhausted.  But  he  took  it  all  at  once 
and  said  he  needed  it  that  way  ! 


ITRnlPi* 


My  friend  "Ed" 
taught  me  the  first 
rudiments  of  cookery.  It 
all  began  by  frying  fish  and  making 
4  coffee  after  we  had  pitched  tent  in  some 
ideal  place  along  the  lake-shore  in  those 
halcyon  days  when  we  were  young,  energetic,  not 
purse-proud,  and  full  of  appreciation  for  all  of  the 
benefits  which  nature  seemed  to  bestow  purposely 
for  our  delectation. 

I  was  young  in  those  days.  When  I  look  back  on 
those  June  hours,  it  is  like  the  dream  of  Arcadia — 
more  healthy  than  any  I  have  since  had.  Life 
was  stretched  out  before  me  like  that  expanse  of 
tranquil  blue  water.  My  troubles  were  as  light  as 
the  fluff  on  the  heather  ;  my  youthful  energy  was 
never  evanescent,  and  my  air-castles  were  iridescent 
with  hope  !     Why,  I  had  never  been  in  love  ! 

The  Maud  Mullers,  the  Evangelines,  and  the 
Marguerites  were  merely  interesting  human  crea- 
tures described  in  rhyme.  But  the  luminous  mist 
on  the  hills  in  the  azure  haze  of  an  Indian  summer, 


Camping  out  with  "  Ed."  Tj 

the  mellow  light  that  crept  over  the  pasture  where 
cows  were  ruminating,  the  crickets'  song  of  silence, 
and  the  cry  of  the  whippoorwill  —  all  this  was 
poetry,  and  appealed  to  me  with  devout  thanksgiv- 
ing that  I  was  permitted  to  be  alive.  For  the  brute 
my  sympathies  were  most  tender.  I  think  I  had  a 
strange  influence  over  all  animal  life,  for  the  cows 
and  sheep  in  unfamiliar  places  would  come  to  me 
and  never  seem  afraid.  It  was  out  of  all  this  long- 
ing affection  that  the  virtue  of  my  first  real  love  was 
subsequently  born.  But  oh,  this  retrospection  ! 
Let  me  get  back  to  practical  things  ;  let  me  come 
back  to  this  cook-book  and  deal  with  the  material  ! 

In  those  days  Ed  seemed  much  older  than  I. 
Now  he  doesn't.  I  presume  it  was  because  he  was 
tall  and  manly,  with  a  great,  big  chest,  and  a  way 
that  so  dominated  me  that  my  youthful  impulses 
oftentimes  met  with  a  frost-like  observation — very 
much  as  I  have  seen  a  St.  Bernard  dog  look  at  a 
setter  pup.  My  first  lessons  in  cooking  principally 
consisted  in  going  for  the  milk.  That  was  usu- 
ally an  errand  that  meant  a  mile  over  hedge  and 
stubble  and  along  a  dusty  road  to  some  near  farm- 
er's house.  On  my  return  I  was  sure  to  find  Ed 
taking  a  siesta  while  the  water  was  boiling  over  the 
drift-wood  fire.     Then  he  would  say  :  "  Humph,  if 


28  The  bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

you'd  been  a  little  quicker,  I  would  have  shown  you 
how  to  boil  water  as  it  ought  to  be  boiled.  If  you 
want  to  know  how  to  make  coffee,  you  must  begin 
at  the  very  beginning.  Do  you  suppose  Booth 
played  '  Hamlet '  without  studying  all  the  stage 
rudiments  ? "  Of  course,  I  didn't  realize  the  value 
of  all  this  sage  advice  at  the  time.  I  do  now.  Well, 
I  did  learn  to  boil  on  that  trip,  and  one  day  fried 
some  perch  so  thoroughly  that  now  among  the  tro- 
phies of  the  past  I  believe  Ed  has  the  pan  with  the 
fish  still  clinging  to  it.  As  I  have  said,  those  were 
halcyon  days,  when  cracked  wheat,  served  hot  on 
the  Httle  camp  table  with  some  New  Orleans  molas- 
ses, a  cup  of  Ed's  coffee,  and  some  berries  gotten 
on  a  foraging  expedition,  made  a  feast  that  was  en- 
joyed with  more  healthy  zest  than  any  I  have  since 
had.  We  used  to  get  great  pieces  of  cheese  from 
pretty  farmers'  daughters  ;  but  it  never  occurred  to 
us  to  make  Welsh  rabbits  out  of  it.  In  fact,  at 
that  time  such  a  mixture  would  have  been  looked 
upon  as  a  patent  recipe  for  a  nightmare.  No.  I 
fancy  the  pretty  farmers'  daughters'  smiles  made 
that  cheese  more  palatable  and  digestible  than  any 
considerable  amount  of  paprika. 

One  thing  I  at  least  learned  to  do  in  tho^e  old 
camping-out  days,  and  that  was  to  make  a  good  cup 


Camping  out  with  "  Ed**  2g 

of  coffee.  I  do  not  think  it  was  very  good  then. 
Ed  said  it  wasn't ;  but  it  was  the  experience  I 
got  that  was  so  tremendously  valuable  — don't  you 
know.  We  were  talking  it  over  the  other  night. 
Ed  was  smoking  his  old  meerschaum  pipe  and  tell- 
ing me  that  I  didn't  know  beans  about  cooking,  or 
even  catching  fish,  in  those  days.  I  said  that  even 
if  I  didn't  I  got  pretty  good  milk  when  I  went 
for  it.  Then  we  discussed  coffee,  and  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  there  were  two  good  ways  of 
making  it,  and  in  the  long  run,  unless  it  was 
for  a  demi  tasse  at  the  end  of  a  dinner,  the  old- 
fashioned  way  of  boiling  it  was  the  most  satisfac- 
tory. 

But  we  hatched  out  three  good  recipes,  and  here 
they  are  : 

First. — See  that  you  get  good  coffee,  one  part 
Mocha  and  two  parts  Java,  ground  fine.  Fill  a 
good-sized  cup  with  it  and  mix  well  into  this  a  raw 
egg  and  the  shell.  Now  let  your  water — say  a 
quart— come  to  the  boiling  point,  then  add  to  this 
the  mixture.  Let  it  stand  for  at  least  ten  minutes 
and  keep  at  the  boiling  point— at  least  let  it  boil 
up  twice— then  pour  in  a  cup  of  cold  water.  Let 
stand  for  five  minutes  longer,  then  serve  with  cream 
or  hot  milk.  This  ought  to  make  a  cup  of  delicious 
coffee. 


3©  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

Second. — To  make  French  coffee  :  Simply  pour 
hot  water  on  well-ground  coffee  through  the  top 
strainer.  If  chicory  is  added  it  will  help  flavor  and 
color.     Delmonico  and  all  best  restaurants  use  it. 

Third. — Same  as  first,  except  when  putting  into 
it  a  cup  of  cold  water  add  rich  milk.  This  will 
bring  a  perfect  golden  color  to  your  coffee  and  also 
saves  extra  serving.  This  is  known  on  the  menus 
as  cafe  au  lait. 


DINNER1NA-5L0T 

Tames  Clarence  Harvey,  the 
''  poet  with  a  voice  of  his  own," 
as  the  London  Academy  put  it, 
once  confided  to  me  something 
about  a  nine-course  dinner  he  had 
which  caused  him  to  bemoan  the  fact  that 
no  inventive  Yankee  had  yet  patented  a  folding 
chafing-dish  which  could  be  carried  in  the  vest 
pocket  or  worn  as  a  charm  on  the  watch-chain. 
Mr.  Harvey  is  responsible  for  the  christening 
of  paprika  as  the  "  Goddess  of  Good  Digestion  " 
(He  also  confessed  to  me  in  an  unguarded  mo- 
ment that  he  wrote  that  immortal  poem,  "  Girl  in 
hammock — reading  book,")  and  he  bows  at  her 
shrine  as  a  fervent  devotee.  "  You  can  eat  a 
Welsh  rabbit,  dish  and  all,  without  indigestion, 
if  plenty  of  paprika  is  well  stirred  in  while  the 
cheese  is- melting,"  he  said  to  me  once,  and  I 
really  believe  he  would  have  tried  it  if  it  hadn't 
been  a  silver-plated  affair  that  I  was  rather  fond  of. 
Once  upon  a  time  he  was  in  London,  and  had  taken 
the  underground  railway  at  King's  Cross  for  Wal- 
tham  Green,  He  became  interested  in  a  magazine 
article  (I  have  often  wondered  what  magazine  that 


32  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

was)  and  neglected  to  change  cars  at  Earlscourt.  As 
a  consequence  he  suddenly  found  the  chimney-pots 
of  London  town  disappearing  in  the  distance,  while 
before  him  spread  out  the  green  fields  and  suburban 
villas  beyond  Hammersmith  and  Ravenscourt.  He 
appealed  to  the  guard,  who  told  him  to  hurry  across 
the  tracks  and  take  the  returning  train;  but  the  way 
was  circuitous  and  elevated,  and  the  gate  was  closed 
upon  a  sadder  and  wiser  as  well  as  a  hungrier  man, 
for  dinner-time  was  come.  A  good  dinner  had  been 
missed,  and  the  schedule  showed  no  train  for  an 
hour.  A  generous  station  manager,  however,  ex- 
tended him  the  freedom  of  the  platform  on  which 
to  walk  off  his  vexation.  Then  came  a  ray  of  hope. 
In  the  dim  light  of  an  October  evening  he  saw, 
standing  by  the  station  wall,  a  row  of  slot  machines 
arrayed  along  like  wailing  ghosts  on  the  ragged 
headlands  of  the  eternal  future. 

There  were  sixty  long  minutes  of  waiting  to  kill, 
"and  so,"  murmured  the  poet,  "I  will  draw  on  my 
imagination  (my  friend  has  a  plethora  of  this)  and- 
sumptuously  dine  ! " 

The  margin  of  the  magazine  supplied  an  illus- 
trated menu-card,  and  upon  it  was  inscribed,  "  Po- 
tage,"  "Hors  D'oeuvres,"  "Poisson,"  ''Releve," 
"  Entree,"  "  Roti,"  and  "  Dessert."  Then  began  the 
dinner,  each  course  being  attended  by  a  musical 


A  Dinne}-  in  a  Slot.  ZZ 

prelude,  which  was  produced  by  the  rattling  of  a 
copper  in-the-slot  machine.  The  nearest  he  could 
get  10  potage  was  fig-paste,  while,  for  poisson,  even 
my  poet's  now  feverish  imagination  failed,  and  with 
the  usual  prelude  he  weighed  himself  on  automati- 
cal scales.  A  *'  tuppence  "  gave  him  entrees  of 
sugared  peanuts  and  lemon-drops,  tutti-frutti  and 
pepsin-gum.  Then  came  the  substantial  roti  in  the 
form  of  slabs  of  sweet  chocolate. 

But  this  being  in  no  sense  a  fulness  as  yet,  a 
second  service  was  requested,  and  two  more  solid 
slabs  of  chocolate  gave  weight  and  dignity  to  the 
solitary  dinner — so  much  so  that  Harvey  was  about 
to  weigh  himself  again,  but  saved  the  expense  by 
noticing  on  the  machine  that  each  delivery  of  the 
mechanism  supplied  the  purchaser  with  just  one 
ounce  of  chocolate  ;  so  he  stepped  on  to  the  next 
instrument  in  the  line,  which  happened  to  be  a  slot 
fortune-teller.  The  fig-paste  and  lemon-drops  had 
already  begun  their  fatal  work,  so  it  was  with  quiet 
heroism  the  diner  saw,  as  though  in  letters  of  fire, 
in  the  fortune-teller,  these  words  :  "A  serious  ill- 
ness threatens  you.  That  which  you  don't  expect 
is  sure  to  come  true." 

With  a  heavy  sigh  the  poet  moved  on  to  the  next 
machine,  which  told  for  a  penny  what  number  of 
spectacles  should  be  secured  to  make  the  eyesight 


34-  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

normal.  **  I'll  take  that  in  place  of  the  punch,"  said 
the  poet  to  the  eye-tester.  Another  penny  was  ven- 
tured for  bon-bons  as  dessert,  but  it  slipped  into  the 
wrong  slot  and  brought  forth  postage-stamps.  An- 
other one  perfumed  the  handkerchief,  into  which, 
he  told  me,  he  wept  copiously  as  the  train  at  last 
rolled  into  the  station. 

"And  if  ever  I  miss  another  train,"  concluded 
my  poet-friend,  "and  have  to  draw  on  my  imagina- 
tion, I'll  pretend  I'm  Nebuchadnezzar,  and  browse 
on  the  grass  of  the  fields." 


/A(RINKLE'5DIAPA50N 


I  READ  in  the  Sun  that  the  boys  and 
girls  were  gathering  autumn  leaves 
in  the*  country,  and  a  poetical  descrip- 
|-°^  ^  tion  of  the  azure  haze  in  the  air,  the 
sunshine  of  gold,  and  the  splashed  colors  of  the 
rainbow  painted  on  the  foliage,  set  me  to  think- 
ing. I  had  really  allowed  myself  to  forget  for 
the  moment  that  God  was  visiting  anywhere  near 
me,  and  I  was  fired  by  a  sudden  desire  to  go  and 
witness  some  of  His  transformation  scenes  outside 
the  city  gates.  I  had  one  friend  in  the  country 
whom  I  knew  would  welcome  me ;  so  I  telegraphed 
to  Nym  Crinkle  at  his  house  in  the  Ramapo  hills, 
and  this  was  his  reply  : 

Nymsden. 
Come  on  up.     I  have  a  new  Alderneycow  to  show  you;  a 
short-horn  bull  ;    the  dog  has  pups  ;   the  ground  is  covered 
with  chestnuts  and  apples,  and  the  sun  rises  every  morning 
where  you  can  see  it.  Crinkle. 

Nym  met  me  at  Spring  Valley  as  the  4.57  train 
came  in.  He  was  on  the  back  seat,  with  an  extra 
coat  for  me  because,  as  he  said,  I  probably  thought 
it  was  just  as  warm  eight  hundred  feet  above  my 
New  York  ofifice.  "  Rube  "  drove,  and  remarked  as 
we  bowled  along  over  the  road  that  if  I'd  go  to 


36  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

the  "  smithy  "  with  him  the  next  day  he  would  let 
me  see  the  sore  foot  of  the  nigh  horse. 

There  is  no  other  house  like  Nym's  den.  It's 
the  longest,  biggest,  cosiest  country  place  I  was 
ever  in.  There's  style  about  it  above  the  lowly 
farmer,  but  there  are  no  false  notes  sung  in  its 
hospitality.  There  is  an  atmosphere  of  gentle, 
happy  Bohemia,  such  as  you  like  where  hands  clasp 
firm.  Nym  built  this  house  by  his  pen.  He  was 
several  years  in  building  it,  paying  for  it  in  ripples 
that  soon  gathered  into  a  solid  wave  of  possession. 
He  built  it  as  he  wanted  it.  The  boss  carpenter 
may  have  bossed  his  man,  but  when  Nym  wanted  a 
twenty-foot  opening  for  a  fireplace  he  bossed  that. 
He  has  his  "morning"  room,  where  the  early  sun 
shines  in  from  across  the  meadows,  and  he  has  the 
"  living  "  room,  which  the  sun  lightens  through  the 
trees  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  then  gives  the  calm, 
gentle  hour  of  dusk,  when  it  sinks  back  of  the  great 
hills  of  Ramapo.  At  night  big  logs  of  wood  warm 
this  living  room  into  an  embrace  of  comfort,  and 
around  its  table,  under  a  lamp  that  seems  to  help  in 
the  search  to  each  other'^  heart,  there  is  something 
different  discussed  from  the  shallow  gabble  of  the 
club.  Nature  seemed  never  more  gorgeous  than  it 
did  on  this  visit  of  mine.  The  sky  was  Venetian, 
and  the  paint-brush  that  had  colored  the  leaves  had 


Nym  Crinkle's  Diapason.  37 

splashed  them  with  Etruscan.  The  orchards  were 
speckled  with  red  apples,  and  the  little  touch  of 
frost  the  night  before  had  made  the  chestnut-burs 
drop  and  open  on  the  ground.  Everywhere  the 
cornucopia  of  plenty  suggested  itself,  and  the  air 
was  so  exhilarating  I  found  myself  thanking  God  I 
lived,  even  more  enthusiastically  than  the  katydids 
and  whippoorwills  declared  themselves  that  night. 
Do  you  blame  me  that  I  fell  into  writing  such  lines 
as  these  before  I  crept  into  bed  ? 

What  a  profusion  of  leaves  ! 
Yellow  and  russet,  red  and  brown, 
All  touched  with  a  golden  brush. 
Ferns  in  myriad  tints  are  casting 
Shadows  of  delicate  tracery, 
And  fields  are  dimly  yellow 
With  fading  golden-rod. 

Above  the  sun-burned  marsh 

The  heads  of  cat-tails  peep, 

Their  brown  pompons  unravelled  in  the  winds  ; 

Yellow  tents  of  field-shocked  corn, 

And  pumpkins  piled  like  cannon-balls. 

While  through  draperies  of  dying  leaves 

Rosy  apples  wink. 

Elms  and  oaks,  pines  and  maples  ! 

Swelling  masses  of  green  splashed  red  ! 

The  sun's  aslant,  the  shadow's  long  ; 

An  odor  of  brown  grass  is  on  the  evening  breeze  ; 


38  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

The  hazy  horizon  suffused  with  blushes  ; 
The  half-moon  white  as  silver  shining  in  the  east ; 
The  leaf-gatherers  are  going  to  their  homes  ; 
The  whippoorwill  is  calling  to  its  mate  ! 

There  !  that  may  be  faulty  literature,  and  the 
rhythm  may  be  halting,  and  there  may  be  a  strange 
uncertainty  to  my  lines  ;  but  I  think  when  I  read  it 
to  Nym  he'll  say  :  "  My  boy,  the  way  you  read  it  is 
the  way  we  both  have  the  painting  in  our  hearts  !  " 

Singular,  is  it  not,  that  when  you  are  in  the  coun- 
try there  is  more  pleasure  waiting  at  the  pasture 
fence  for  the'  morning  greeting  to  the  soft-eyed 
cows  than  there  is  to  be  found  in  a  city  flat  ?  I 
had  a  great  deal  of  honest  happiness  in  rolling 
through  the  autumn  leaves  with  the  big  staghound 
"  Sport,"  who  always  seemed  to  be  on  the  threshold 
of  conversation  with  me.  The  chestnuts  and  apples, 
the  cider  and  milk,  that  I  digested  inade  me 
healthier  than  a  Manhattan  cocktail  would  have 
made  me,  and  the  infantile  delight  I  took  in  watch- 
ing the  cook  at  the  kitchen  step  making  a  pumpkin 
pie  would  not  be  understood  by  everybody. 

One  day  Nym's  family  went  to  town,  and  directly 
afterwards  the  servants  struck  for  higher  wages. 
They  seemed  to  think  that  if  they  had  to  work  806 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea  they  were  entitled  to 


Nym  Crinkte's  Diapason.  39 

correspondingly  higher  pay.  We  tried  to  figure 
up  just  about  what  they  should  have  on  that  line  of 
argument,  but  found  it  would  take  so  much  printed 
matter  in  the  way  of  pot-boilers  to  meet  their  de- 
mands, that  we  resolved  to  boil  the  pot  ourselves. 
So  Nym  put  aside  his  philosophy  of  dramatic  criti- 
cism and  his  deductions  concerning  the  amenities 
of  men  and  things,  and  donned  a  gingham  apron. 
We  couldn't  understand  why  the  ''  women  folks  " 
shirked  the  work  we  then  assumed.  Why,  the 
hours  went  by  in  a  perfect  rhapsody  of  happy 
rhythm  !  We  cooked  such  juicy  steaks,  and  then 
we  smothered  them  in  the  crispest  of  onions  or  the 
freshest  of  mushrooms  !  We  boiled  potatoes  with 
their  jackets  on  that  were  simply  dreams  of  mealy 
whiteness  !  As  for  our  scrambled  eggs  in  thick 
cream,  they  were  beyond  the  criticism  of  a  Savarin  ! 
Talk  about  the  drudgery  of  the  kitchen  wench  ! 
Fudge  !  Why,  any  woman  with  half  an  eye  ought 
to  enjoy  such  occupation  !  Why  should  she  want 
higher  pay?  No;  we  actually  couldn't  compre- 
hend it.  We  could  barely  wait  for  the  blue  streaks 
of  morning,  so  eager  were  we  to  be  up  and  doing, 
and  all  day  long  ;  whether  we  were  rambling  through 
the  woods  and  orchards,  or  visiting  the  pigs,  or 
cavorting  with  the  puppies,  it  was  only  a  matter 
oi pour  passer  le  tonps  until  it  was  the  hour  to  begin 


40  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

operations  on  the  next  banquet.  Of  course  you 
couldn't  expect  us  to  take  time  to  wash  all  the 
dishes  !  We  put  those  aside  that  we  had  used  and 
took  new  ones,  because  Nym  had  a  lot  of  *em,  and 
what  was  the  use  ? 

And  then,  how  we  did  just  enjoy  the  last  hours 
of  the  night  thinking  what  we  would  have  the  next 
day  !  We  concocted  all  sorts  of  arrangements,  and 
finally,  as  a  last  experiment,  got  up  a  batch  of 
bread.     That  was  a  solid  success. 


^  ^  ^-  One  day  Tom  said  to  me  :  *'  I  say,  old 
'  ^^f^  man,  it's  all  nonsense,  don't  you  know, 
spending  two  or  three  dollars  for  our 
dinners  the  way  we  have  been  doing  ?  There  are 
the  Appleby-Joneses,  who  are  rather  high  tarts, 
and  they  get  ever  so  much  more  than  we  do, 
with  wine  included,  for  only  fifty  cents  apiece  !  " 
So  Tom  and  I  determined  to  forsake  the  "  Studio  " 
or  the  '^  Clifton  "  for  a  while,  and  see  how  things 
worked  along  on  Twenty-fifth  Street.  There  were 
three  places,  next  door  to  each  other,  that  held  out 
alluring  signs,  and  canopies  down  to  the  sidewalk  in 
case  the  night  was  wet.  Our  first  dinner  was  aston- 
ishing. How  they  could  do  it  we  didn't  know  :  half 
a  dozen  courses,  claret,  all  the  black  coffee  you 
wanted,  and  only  ten  cents  to  the  waiter.  To  be 
sure,  the  oil  on  the  salad  tasted  as  though  it  had 
been  made  out  of  old  shoes,  and  the  salt  was  of  the 
quality  that  hides  are  preserved  in.  Yet  it  wasn't 
necessary  to  gorge  ourselves  with  either,  and  we 
considered  in  the  first  hour  of  our  enthusiasm  that 
we  had  struck  oil,  even  if  it  were  of  an  inferior  kind. 


42  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

With  the  two  successive  nights  we  tried  the  neigh- 
bors, and  then  went  on  to  other  streets  hard  by,  with 
the  result  we  began  laying  up  money  in  the  bank, 
and  declared  that  one  could  live  more  cheaply,  and 
at  the  same  time  more  luxuriously,  in  New  York 
than  any  other  town. 

After  a  couple  of  weeks  had  gone  by  with  this 
sort  of  thing,  Tom  said  to  me  :  "  I  don't  know  how 
it  is,  but  I'm  hungry  and  still  I'm  not.  Dear  old 
Bradley  doctored  me  yesterday  with  a  dose  of  pep- 
sin-flakes, but  somehow  or  other  I'm  all  out  of  sorts. 
What  do  you  say  to  trying  something  better  to- 
night? I  don't  mind  going  a  dollar."  I  said  :  "All 
right ;  let's  go  to  Spagetti's ;  they  say  he's  up  to 
DeFs  almost." 

So  we  went  to  Spagetti's  and  ate  with  new  zest. 
It  was  a  novelty,  at  any  rate,  and  the  people  there 
appeared  to  be  enjoying  their  first  meal  on  earth. 
It  entertained  us  to  see  them  devour  macaroni  as  a 
cow  would  hay.  They  had  an  idea  that  it  shouldn't 
be  cut  with  even  ^  fork,  and  sucked  it  in  with  a  pro- 
vincial grimace  of  satisfaction  that  a  stork  would 
have  envied  in  trying  to  swallow  an  eel.  When  we 
got  through  and  felt  like  a  couple  of  turkeys  with 
superfluous  dressing,  I  said  to  Tom  :  "  Those  kid- 
neys were  pretty  good,  weren't  they  ?  " 

He  said  :  "  Do  you  mean  those  things  on  a  stick 


The  Little  Table  d'Hote.  4j 

with  bacon  in  between  them  ?     For  my  part,  I  feel 
as  if  I  had  a  stick  through  my  own.     No,  old  chsfcp, 
the  fact  is,  I'm  going  back  to  a  boarding-house; 
Even  pie  would  be  a  relief." 
The  next  night  we  went  to  Del's. 


FlTZN00DLE"5(il/rpIN(jDl3H 


I  MET  B.  B.  Vallentine,  formerly  editoi* 
of  Puck^  rushing  around  the  Herald 
building  a  few  days  ago.  We  got 
to  talking  about  the  chafing-dish.  Knowing  him 
to  be  almost  wholly  responsible  for  the  sanity  of 
Lord  Fitznoodle  as  we  knew  him  in  JPuck  and 
occasionally  since,  I  asked  him  to  speak  to  His 
Lordship  on  the  subject.  The  next  day  came  Fitz- 
noodle himself. 

**  Ya-as,"  he  said,  "there  was  a  time  aw — it  was  a 
ccnsiderwable  perwiod  aw  ago — when  I  thought  it 
would  be  awfully  jolly,  ye  know,  to  be  what  some 
aw  literwarwy  fellaws,  artist  fellaws,  and  some  fel- 
laws  interwested  in  the  dwama,  call  a  Bohemian.  I 
don't  pweciselyknow  how  to  descwibethe  charwac- 
tah  of  a  Bohemian,  but  in  a  generwal  way  it  is 
supposed  to  be  a  aw  fellaw  who  is  not  fond  of  cer- 
wemony  or  of  doing  everwything  in  a  cut-and- 
dwied  mannah. 

"  I  got  the  ideah  f  wom  weading  some  aw  Fwench 
books  when  I  was  at  Cambwidge.  I  don't  mean, 
ye  know,  the  Amerwican  aw  Cambwidge,  which  I 
believe  is  also  a  descwiption  of  college,  but  the 
English  Cambwidge  aw. 


Fitznoodles  Chafing-dish.  45 

"  By  the  way,  it's  doosid  awkward  having  the 
same  name  aw  faw  such  places,  and  must  aw  fwe- 
quently  lead  to  erwahs. 

''  In  twying  to  be  a  Bohemian  I  used  to  gives  up- 
pahs  in  my  wooms  in  Twinity  College.  Jack,  who 
was  aw  in  those  days  a  cornet  in  a  wahtah  cwack 
cavalwy  wegiment,  used  occasionally  to  wun  down 
to  see  me  and  aw  suggested  on  one  occasion  that  it 
would  not  be  at  all  a  bad  ideah  to  pwactice  cook- 
erwy  and  the  pweparwations  of  varvvious  edibles 
in  connection  with  a  chafing-dish.  Jack  wemarked 
he  had  made  aw  quite  a  success  of  it  in  barwacks. 

"  I  aw  don't  think  my  name  will  be  handed  down 
to  posterwity  as  a  particulahly  superwiah  cook,  but 
it  weally  afforded  me  and  the  othah  fellaws  in 
Twinity  considerwable  wecweation. 

"  We  didn't  aw  welish  the  arwangements  I  pwe- 
parwed  in  the  chafing-dish,  but  serving  them  cweated 
hilarwity,  and  I  aw  indeed  often  laughed  quite 
fweely.  One  fellaw,  just  befaw  exam,  faw  the  aw 
degwee,  got  weady  a  verwy  widiculous  examination 
papah,  containing  comical  and  humorwous  ques- 
tions, the  aw  answers  to  which  would  weveal  the 
pwoficiency  any  fellaw  had  acquired  in  the  aw 
science  of  chafing-dish  cookerwy. 

"  Of  course  it  wasn't  weally  aw  necessarwy  to  we- 
ply  to  these  questions  in  ordah  to  pass  an  examina- 


46  The  J^ackelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

tion — the  fellaws  only  did  it  to  have  a  aw  jolly  lark, 
ye  know. 

*  My  memorwy  is  not  verwy  good,  but  among  the 
aw  dishes  I  twied  to  pwepare  in  my  chafing-dish 
experwiments  were  aw  Welsh  wabbits,  aw  bwoiled 
lobstahs,  aw  large  Bwitish  cwabs,  two  or  thrwee 
kinds  of  fwicassees  and  Colchestah  natives — they're 
oystahs,  ye  know — cooked  in  a  mannah  which  has 
escaped  my  wecollection. 

"  Many  fellaws  wemarked  aftah  I  had  gwown 
tired  of  my  chafing-dish  that  there  was  an  ex- 
twemely  wapid  disappearwance  of  the  dyspepsia 
fwom  which  they  had  been  sufferwing  aw." 


OILING 
TtilN05 


^^^^^ 


One  day  I  was  walking  along  Forty- 
second  Street  with  George,  when  we 
paused  to  look  at  some  curious  con- 
trivances in  a  large  show-window  of 
"a  house-furnishing  store."  There 
were  two  machines  so  mysterious  and 
intricate  that  we  resolved  to  go  in  and 
inquire  of  a  gentlemanly  clerk,  if  he 
could  be  found,  exactly  as  to  their 
uses.  The  clerk  proved  to  be  gen- 
tlemanly enough,  but  extremely  non- 
committal. He  treated  our  subsequent 
surprise  as  a  personal  insinuation. 
Whether  he  had  any  hopes  of  selling 
either  of  us  the  first  machine  I  have 
never  learned.  He  placed  it  before 
us  with  that  American  complaisance 
that  distinguishes  and  makes  brighter 
the  life  of  Chauncey 
,^3  Depew,     and      ex- 

plained   to    us    its 
workings  as  well  a§ 


48  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

he  could.  It  was  a  nickel-plated  affair,  resem- 
bling somewhat  an  old  cider-press  that  I  was  once 
very  intimate  with  when  I  used  to  spend  my  sum- 
mers on  Calvin  Ely's  farm.  This  counterfeit  pre- 
sentment, with  its  hydraulic  screws,  jacks,  and 
levers,  was  a  combination  of  ingenuity,  so  the  clerk 
informed  me,  for  the  purpose  of  squeezing  the 
marrow  out  of  a  duck's  bones,  and  the  price  was 
forty  dollars  ! 

It  seemed  to  us  this  was  rather  an  expensive 
method  of  getting  out  marrow.  There  were  so  many 
simpler  ways  !  George  suggested,  for  instance,  that 
any  old  thing  would  do.  "  What's  the  matter  with 
pushing  it  out  with  a  lead-pencil  ?  "  said  he. 

"Or  a  hairpin  ?"  I  added.      Then  continuing  : 

"Although  either  one  of  those  plans  is  good, 
George,  yet  it  seems  to  me  that  the  subject  under 
consideration  is  whether  this  machine  is  not  only 
superior,  but  if  it  has  not  some  fine  points  that  may 
have  escaped  us." 

"  No  doubt,"  he  answered  half  apologetically, 
"we  have  given  it  but  a  cursory  examination." 

So  the  clerk  then  exhibited  to  us  the  working  of 
the  machine,  to  his  infinite  satisfaction.  It  was 
certainly  admirably  adapted  for  the  purpose.  "  No 
bachelor  who  possesses  a  chafing-dish  should  be 
without  one,"  said  the  clerk, 


Boiling  Things.  49 

George  was  now  convinced,  and  was  about  to 
buy  it.  He's  the  most  amiably  extravagant  fellow 
you  ever  met.  He  would  hesitate  at  nothing,  as  a 
general  rule,  if  you  could  impress  it  upon  his  mind 
that  it  was  really  a  good  thing — and  the  clerk  was 
getting  in  his  work.  It  was  becoming  a  moment  of 
intense  anxiety  on  my  part,  and  I  was  almost  afraid 
I  might  offend  the  clerk  lest  he  should  think  me 
hypercritical  concerning  my  friend's  luxurious 
desires. 

Finally  I  spoke  up  :  "  Why  can't  we  take  the 
marrow  out  of  our  next  duck — ourselves?  You 
have  never  particularly  cared  about  marrow,  and 
why  should  you  pay  forty  dollars  for  it  now  ? " 

"  I  am  surprised  at  you,"  he  answered,  with  cer- 
tainly a  look  of  it.  "  Don't  you  see  how  much 
more  perfectly  it  could  be  done  by  machinery  ?  " 

"  But  we  may  not  have  another  duck  this  year  !  " 

"Oh,  but  we  would;  this  would  positively  be  an 
incentive." 

Just  then  George's  eye  lighted  upon  another 
machine,  less  complex  perhaps,  but  only  about  two- 
tHirds  the  size.  The  clerk  told  us  that  it  was  for 
the  proper  boiling  of  an  Q,g%.  I  asked  him  why  an 
old  tin  pail  wouldn't  do  in  case  of  an  emergency. 
Then  he  showed  us  how  superior  this  would  be.  It 
Wi^s  ^bout  the  size  of  a  Vermont  maple-syrup  can, 


$o  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

with  a  door  in  it  and  mounted  over  a  spirit-lamp. 
Inside  the  first  cylinder  was  another  just  large 
enough  to  hold  an  t<gg,  and  the  ^gg  was  nicely  ad- 
justed between  wire  springs. 

"  That's  splendid,"  said  George;  "nothing  could 
be  more  perfect/' 

The  price  was  seven  dollars,  I  think,  and  he  would 
have  had  it  then  and  there,  besides  the  marrow- 
squeezer,  if  I  hadn't  rushed  him  out  into  the  open 
air.  I  finally  compromised  matters  by  accompany- 
ing him  to  a  florist's,  where  he  bought  a  bunch  of 
violets  as  big  as  a  cart-wheel,  and  dispatched  it  up- 
town with  an  expression  of  serene  happiness. 

I  have  begun  this  chapter  in  a  roundabout  way 
to  illustrate,  as  I  afterward  did  to  George,  that  the 
simplest  way  is  the  best  way.  Every  cook-book  I 
have  consulted,  as  to  boiling  an  ^gg,  for  instance, 
has  some  new  discovery  of  its  own.  One  evening 
George  popped  in  on  me  with  great  glee.  He  had 
just  purchased  a  beautiful  new  book  by  Mrs.  Ronald, 
and,  directly  he  was  seated,  read  from  it  as  follows  : 
"Place  the  eggs  in  cold  water  on  the  fire  and  remove 
as  soon  as  the  water  boils  !  " 

Then  we  consulted  other  writers  on  the  subject. 

Said  Mrs.  Rorer  :  "Put  them  in  boiling  water  ; 
if  you  like  the  white  set,  about  two  minutes'  boil- 


Boiling  Things.  51 

ing  is  enough.  A  new-laid  ^g%  will  take  three 
minutes." 

**  Isn't  that  something  of  an  insinuation  that  the 
eggs  in  the  first  instance  are  bad  eggs  ? "  asked 
George. 

It  seemed  like  it.  Then  we  referred  to  Thomas 
Murrey.  This  is  what  he  said  :  "  The  chafing-dish 
is  just  the  thing  for  boiling  eggs  at  table  in  hot 
weather." 

''  Well,  that  is  a  great  recipe  for  boiling  eggs," 
said  George.  "  He  wants  you  to  guess  at  it,  and 
then  only  in  hot  weather.     Let  us  guess  again." 

We  now  got  out  Warne's  ponderous  English  book, 
''  Model  Cookery,"  and  found  on  page  82  this  thrill- 
ing advice  :  "  Fill  a  pint  saucepan  with  water" 
(this  means  water — not  milk,  of  course!),  '*set  it  over 
the  fire  and  let  itboir'  (how  very  explicit!);  "then, 
as  it  boils,  put  in  with  a  spoon  "  (not  a  shovel,  mind 
you !)  "  two  or  three  fresh  eggs.  Do  not  use  a  fresh 
^g%  until  it  has  been  laid  ten  hours." 

"  In  other  words,"  I  said,  "  every  hen  must  lay  a 
guarantee  of  the  time  with  every  egg." 

"  Just  so,"  said  George. 


mwimmw. 


Dear  Mab  : 

The  larder  is  stocked  with  things  you 

like  to-day  : 
There  are  kisses  in  cocoanut,  and  bus- 
cuits 
Sweet  in  their  fresh  baking,  while  in  bottles  lay 
Tasty  anchovies,  ready  for  olives. 

There's  truffles,  cheese  ruffles,  and  chicken  pate 
Crammed  into  boxes  eager  to  be  eaten. 

There's  chow-chow  ;  and  jam  is  in  tempting  array — 
Peaches  in  brandy  to  tickle  your  palate  ! 

There's  the  daintiest  tea  from  China's  kitchen  ; 
There's  coffee  from  Mocha  and  Java's  garden  ; 
There's  the  smell  of  a  leaf  as  in  the  lichen — 
There's  a  great  fragrance  of  stuff  in  that  larder ! 

The  Barsac  is  prime  and  ready  for  drinking, 

"While  I  am  still  waiting  and  waiting  for  thee  ; 

I  love  with  the  love  that  forever's  a-thinking. 

Hurry,  dear  girl,  come  and  take  tea — with  me  ! 

Jack. 
P.  S. — Come  on  over  ! 


Mab  never  would  consider  my  cooking  seriously. 
I  could  occasionally  tempt  her  with  a  devilled  mush- 
room, and  once  in  a  while,  when  she  insisted  upon 
l)eing  ravenously  hungry,  she  would   nibble  as  a 


A  Lunch  with  Her.  53 

little  mouse  would  on  a  Welsh  rabbit — that  is  if 
little  mouse  tried  to  eat  a  hot  one.  One  day  she- 
had  it  all  arranged  to  have  her  grandmother,  or 
somebody  or  other,  accompany  her  as  a  chaperone 
to  my  "studio,"  as  she  called  it,  for  a  little  lunch, 
and  had  even  gone  so  far,  in  hopes  to  please  me 
with  her  appetite,  that  she  actually  went  without 
breakfast  that  mornmg.  When  the  hour  came  Mab 
appeared  with  an  armful  of  bundles,  each  covered 
with  red  stars,  and  I  knew  she  had  been  shopping. 
She  came  through  the  doorway  with  a  tremendous 
sweep  of  skirt,  and  in  an  atmosphere  of  violets. 
Suddenly  she  stopped  and  looked  at  me  aghast : 

*'  Where's  grandmother  ? " 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,  Mab,  where  on  earth 
your  grandmother  is.  In  fact,  I  had  forgotten 
almost  that  you  had  a  grandmother,"  I  answered. 

Then  she  sat  down  in  my  big  barrel  chair,  still 
clutching  at  the  red  stars,  and  said  : 

'*  Look  here,  Jack,  this  will  never  do.  We  have 
simply  got  to  have  grandmother  for  lunch." 

"  Your  grandmother  for  lunch  !  "  cried  I.  "  Why, 
Mab — Queen  Mab — whatever  may  you  be  think- 
ing of?  And  here  when  I  was  expecting  to  have 
something  quite  different !  How  do  you  want 
her — devilled  ?  " 

"  Jack  !   you  are  entirely  too  ga^  this  morning;. 


54  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

But  it  isn't  right  for  me  to  be  here  all  alone  with 
— you.     I  expected  to  meet  her  here,  I  really  did." 

"  But  you  can  wait  a  little  while  for  her,  can't 
you  ?  "  I  asked. 

*'  Well,  I  suppose  I  might  do  that." 

**  Well,  then  we  will  have  our  lunch  while  we  arc 
waiting  for  grandmother." 

This  seemed  to  be  sensible  enough  to  Mab,  and 
she  graced  my  escritoire  by  taking  her  hat  off  and 
flaunting  the  ostrich  plumes  over  it,  and  distribut- 
ing the  red  stars  on  the  bookcase.  It  just  filled  my 
bachelor  heart  with  a  thrill  of  almost  proprietary 
pride  when  I  sat  mute  and  inglorious  watching  Mab 
fix  her  beautiful  brown  hair  with  that  woman's  dex- 
terity in  handling  film  that's  a  mystery  to  man.  I 
know  that  my  gentle  reader  will  forgive  me  when  I 
say  that  at  that  moment  I  hoped  to  goodness  that 
Mab's  grandmother  had  been  carried  off  to  Brook- 
lyn by  a  runaway  cable-car. 

"  Jack,"  said  Mab,  as  if  a  great  idea  had  struck 
her,  "  give  me  a  cocoanut  macaroon.  I  must  have 
something  to  eat  right  away." 

I  suggested  that  cake  wasn't  the  right  thing  to 
begin  on ;  that  she  ought  to  take  soup  ;  that  it 
would  simply  be  the  best  sort  of  seasoning  I  could 
imagine,  to  have  her  getting  fearfully  hungry  while 
I  wss  cooking  it. 


"A   LUNCH   WITH    HER." 
must  have  something  to  eat  right  away."— Page  54. 


A  Lunch  with  Her,  55 

''  No,  Jack,"  she  said  determinedly,  "  I  don't 
want  soup."  Then  she  went  over  to  my  larder — 
an  antique  cupboard  that  I  treasured — and  pro- 
ceeded to  pick  out  such  things  as  most  suited  her 
fancy — stuffed  olives,  pate  de  foi  gras^  macaroons, 
and  sardines.  "  There  I  ".  she  said  as  she  placed 
them  on  the  table,  "  don't  let's  cook  anything — let's 
eat  those  !  Really,  Jack,  it's  unbecoming  in  you 
to  cook  ;  I  would  much  rather  have  you  spending 
your  time  writing  poems  to  me  !  " 

That's  the  way  I  had  my  chafing-dish  lunch  with 
Mab.  There  is  no  use  talking — women  do  not  take 
half  the  interest  that  men  do  in  cooking.  But,  bless 
their  hearts  !  I  am  willing  to  stuff  Mab  with  stuffed 
olives  all  her  life  if  she  will  only  have  me  in  the 
bargain  ! 

We  had  been  sitting  at  my  little  mahogany  table 
for  more  than  an  hour.  A  deeper  pink  flush  had 
come  to  Mab's  dear  cheeks.  I  think  it  was  the  sips 
of  Barsac  that  did  it.  Suddenly,  with  her  usual 
spasmodic  mood,  she  exclaimed  :  "  Jack  !  this  is 
awful.  I  must  go  home.  Grandmother  is  probably 
having  a  fit !  " 

There  was  a  swish  of  ostrich  plumes,  a  gathering 


S6 


The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 


of  red  stars,  a  kiss  that  stranded  on  two  coral  reefs, 
and  I  was  alone  ! 

*'  We  followed  the  path  of  years, 

And  walked  for  a  while  together 
Through  the  hills  of  hope  and  the  vale  of  fears, 
Sunned  by  laughter  and  washed  by  tears. 

In  the  best  and  the  worst  of  weather." 

**  Well ! — it  was  long  ago. 

And  the  leaves  in  the  wood  are  falling 
As  we  wander  wearily  to  and  fro, 
With  many  a  change  in  our  hearts,  I  know  ; 

But  still  I  can  hear  you  calling." 


I::ANQUAQE<>p™^7AENUt 


Aspic. — A  savory  jelly  of  meat.      ^ 
Assiettes. —  Small    entrees,    not 
more  than  a  plate  will  contain. 
Atelet. — A  small  silver  skewer. 

Au  Bleu. — A  French  term  applied  to  fish  boiled 
in  white  wine  with  flavorers. 

Au  Gras. — Dressed  with  meat  gravy. 

Au  Jus. — In  the  natural  juice  or  gravy. 

Au  Naturel. — Plain,  simple  cookery. 

Barbecue. — To  roast  whole. 

Barde. — A  thin  slice  of  bacon  fat  placed  over 
any  substance  specially  requiring  the  assistance  of 
fat  without  larding. 

Bavaj'oise  a  VEau. — Tea  sweetened  with  sirup  of 
capillaire,  and  flavored  with  a  little  orange-flower 
water. 

Bavaroise  au  Lait. — Made  in  the  same  way  as  the 
above,  but  with  equal  quantities  of  milk  and  tea. 

Bechamel. — A  rich,  white  French  sauce. 

Beignet.  — Fritter. 

Bisque. — A  soup  made  of  shell-fish. 

Blanc. — White  broth,  used  to  give  a  more  deli- 
cate appearance  to  the  flesh  of  fowl,  lamb,  etc. 

Blanquette. — A   fricassee  usually  made   of  thia 


58  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

slices  of  white  meat,  with  white  sauce  thickened 
with  egg-yolk. 

Blonde  de  Veau. — Double  veal  broth  used  to  en- 
rich soups  and  sauces. 

Boudin. — A  delicate  compound  made  of  quenelle 
forcemeat. 

Bouilli. — Beef  which  has  been  boiled  in  making 
broth. 

Bouillie. — A  French  dish  resembling  that  called 
hasty-pudding. 

Bouillon. — Clear  beef  soup.  , 

Bourguignote. — A  ragout  of  truffles. 

Braise. — Meat  cooked  in  a  closely  covered  stew- 
pan  to  prevent  evaporation,  so  that  the  meat  retains 
not  only  its  own  juices,  but  those  of  any  other 
article,  such  as  bacon,  herbs,  roots,  and  spices,  put 
with  it. 

Braisiere. — A  saucepan  with  ledges  to  the  lid,  so 
that  it  will  contain  firing. 

Brider. — To  truss  fowls  with  a  needle  and 
thread. 

Buisson. — A  cluster  or  bush  of  small  pastry  piled 
on  a  dish. 

Callipash. — The  glutinous  portion  of  the  turtle 
found  in  the  upper  shell. 

Callipee. — The  glutinous  meat  of  the  turtle's 
under  shell. 


Language  of  the  Menu.  ^9 

Cannelons. — Small  rolls  or  collars  of  mince-meat, 
or  of  rice  and  pastry  with  fruit. 

Capilotade. — A  hash  of  poultry. 

Cass?role. — The  form  of  rice  to  be  filled  with  a 
fricassee  of  white  meat  or  a  puree  of  game;  also  "a 
stewpan. 

Civet. — A  dark,  thickish  stew  of  hare  or  venison. 

Cotnpiegne. — Sweet,  French  yeast  cake,  with  fruit. 

Compote. — Fruits  stewed  in  sirup.  There  are  also 
compotes  of  small  birds. 

Confitures. — Sweetmeats  of  sugars,  fruits,  sirups, 
and  essences. 

Cojtsomme. — Strong,  clear  gravy  obtained  by  stew- 
ing meat  for  a  considerable  length  of  time. 

Coulis. — A  rich,  smooth  gravy  used  for  coloring, 
flavoring,  and  thickening  certain  soups  and  sauces. 

Croquant. — A  kind  of  paste  or  cake. 

Croquettes. — A  savory  mince  of  fish,  meat,  or  fowl, 
made  with  a  little  sauce  into  various  shapes,  rolled 
in  ^g%  and  bread-crumbs,  and  fried  crisp. 

Croustacles. — Also  known  as  Dresden  patties. 
They  are  composed  of  mince  incased  in  paste,  and 
moulded  into  various  forms. 

Croustades. — Fried  forms  of  bread  to  serve  minces 
or  other  meats  upon. 

Crouton. — A  sippet  of  bread  fried,  and  used  for 
garnish. 


6o  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

Cuisine  Masquee. — Highly  seasoned  or  unusually 
mixed  dishes. 

Cuisson. — Method  of  cooking  meats,  or  the  liquor 
in  which  they  have  been  boiled. 

Curried. — Flavored  with  curry  powder. 

Dariole. — A  sweet  pate  baked  in  a  mould. 

Daube. — Meat  or  fowl  stewed  in  sauce. 

Daubiere. — An  oval  stewpan. 

Desosser. — To  bone. 

Devilled. — Highly  seasoned. 

Dorure. — Yolks  of  eggs  well  beaten  for  covering 
meat  and  other  dishes. 

Entree. — A  corner  dish  for  the  first  course. 

Entremet. — A  side  dish  for  the  second  course. 

Escalopes. — Collops. 

Espagnole. — A  rich,  brown  Spanish  sauce. 

Earce. — Forcemeat. 

Feuilletage. — Puff  paste. 

Financiere. — An  expensive,  highly  flavored,  mixed 
ragout. 

Flamber. — To  singe  fowl  or  game  after  picking. 

Elan. — A  French  custard. 

Elancs. — The  side  dishes  of  large  dinners. 

Eoncer. — To  put  in  the  bottom  of  a  saucepan 
thin  slices  of  veal  or  bacon. 

Eondue. — A  light  and  pleasant  preparation  of 
cheese. 


Language  of  the  Menu.  6l 

Fricandeaux. — May  be  made  of  any  boned  pieces 
of  veal,  chiefly  cut  from  the  thick  part  of  the 
fillet,  and  of  not  more  than  two  or  three  pounds 
weight. 

Fricassee. — Chickens,  etc. ,  cut  in  pieces  in  a  white 
sauce,  with  trufiles,  mushrooms,  etc.,  as  accessories. 

Galantiiie. — Meat  freed  from  bones,  tied  up  in  a 
cloth  and  boiled  and  served  cold. 

Gateau. — A  pudding  or  baked  cake. 

Gauffres. — A  light,  spongy  sort  of  biscuit. 

Glaze. — Stock  boiled  down  to  the  thickness  of 
jelly,  and  used  to  improve  the  appearance  of  braised 
dishes. 

Godiveaux. — Various  varieties  of  forcemeat. 

Gras.—y<l\\h  or  of  meat  ;  the  reverse  of  niaigre. 

Gratin. — Au  Gratin. — A  term  applied  to  certain 
dishes  prepared  with  sauce  and  baked. 

Gratiner. — To  cook  like  a  grill. 

Haricot, — So  called"  from  the  French  word  for 
beans,  with  which  the  dish  was  originally  made. 
Now  understood  as  any  thick  stew,  or  ragout  of 
mutton,  beef,  or  veal,  cut  in  pieces  and  dressed  with 
vegetables  and  roots. 

Hors-d'ceuvres. — Small  dishes  of  sardines,  ancho- 
vies, and  other  relishes. 

Lardiniere. — Vegetables  stewed  down  in  their  own 
sauce. 


62  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

Lardon. — The  piece  of  bacon  used  in  larding. 

Liaison. — The  mixture  of  ^gg  and  cream  used  to 
thicken  white  soups,  etc. 

Maigre. — Without  meat. 

Marinade. — The  liquor  in  which  fish  or  meat  is 
steeped. 

Mask. — To  cover  meat  with  any  rich  sauce,  ra- 
gout, etc. 

Mayonnaise. — Cold  sauce,  or  salad  dressing. 

Mazarines,  or  Turbans. — Ornamental  entrees  of 
forcemeat  and  fillets  of  poultry,  game,  or  fish. 

Mignonnette  Pepper. — Coarsely  ground  pepper- 
corns. 

Miroton. — Small,  thin  slices  of  meat,  about  as 
large  as  a  silver  dollar,  made  into  ragouts  of  vari- 
ous kinds,  and  dished  up  in  a  circular  form. 

Mouiller. — To  add  broth,  water,  or  other  liquid 
while  the  cooking  is  proceeding. 

Nouilles. — Strips  of  paste  made  of  eggs  and  flour. 

Panada. — Soaked  bread  used  in  the  preparation 
of  French  forcemeat. 

Paner. — To  cover  with  bread-crumbs  fried  or 
baked  food. 

Papillate,  En. — The  pieces  of  paper  greased  with 
oil  and  butter,  and  fastened  around  a  cutlet,  etc., 
by  twisting  it  along  the  edge. 

Pate. — A  small  pie. 


Language  of  the  Menu.  t'^ 

Paupiettes. — Slices  of  meat  rolled. 

Piece  de  Resistance. — The  principal  joint  of  the 
dinner. 

Pilau. — A  dish  of  meat  and  rice. 

Piquer. — To  lard  with  strips  of  bacon  fat,  etc. 

Potage. — Soup. 

Printaniers. — Early  spring  vegetables. 

Profiterolles. — Light  pastry,  creamed  inside. 

Puree. — The  name  given  to  a  soup  the  ingredi- 
ents for  thickening  which  have  been  passed  through 
a  sieve,  then  thinned  with  broth  to  the  proper  con- 
sistency. Meat  and  fish  are  cooked  and  pounded 
in  a  mortar;  roots  and  vegetables  are  stewed  till 
soft  in  order  to  prepare  them  for  being  thus  con- 
verted to  a  smooth  pulp. 

Quenelles. — Forcemeat  of  various  kinds  composed 
of  fish  or  meat,  with  bread,  yolk  of  tg%^  and  some 
kind  of  fat,  seasoned  in  different  ways,  formed  with 
a  spoon  to  an  oval  shape,  then  poached  in  stock,  and 
used  either  as  garnish  to  entrees  or  to  be  served 
separately. 

Ragout. — A  rich  sauce,  with  sweetbreads,  mush- 
rooms, truffles,  etc.,  in  it. 

Releves. — The  remove  dishes. 

Remoulade. — Salad  dressing. 

Rifacimento. — Meat  dressed  a  second  time. 

Rissole.— h  mince  of  fish  or  meat  enclosed  in 


64  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

paste,  or  formed  into  balls  and  other  shapes.  Used 
either  as  side  dishes  or  garnish.  (See  also  Fricas- 
see.) 

Roti. — Roast  meat. 

Roux. — A  mixture  of  butter  and  flour  used  for 
thickening  white  soups  and  gravy. 

Salmi. — A  hash  of  game  cut  up  and  dressed 
when  only  half  roasted. 

Santon. — To  dress  with  sauce  in  the  saucepan 
by  keeping  it  in  motion. 

Sauce  Piquant. — A  sharp  sauce  in  which  lemon 
and  vinegar  predominate  as  a  flavor. 

Sauter. — To  toss  over  the  fire  in  a  saute-pan  with 
a  small  quantity  of  fat  only. 

Serviette,  A  la. — Served  in  a  napkin. 

Sippets. — Small  pieces  of  bread  cut  into  various 
shapes,  either  soaked  in  stock,  toasted,  or  fried,  to 
serve  with  meats  as  garnishing  or  borders. 

Souffle. — A  light  pudding, 

Timbale. — A  sort  of  pie  made  in  a  mould. 

Tourte. — A  tart  baked  in  a  shallow  tin. 

Trifle. — A  second-course  dish,  made  of  sponge 
cake,  macaroons,  jams,  etc. 

Trousser. — To  truss  a  bird. 

Vanner,  To. — To  make  a  sauce  smooth  by  rapidly 
lifting  it  high  in  large  spoonfuls,  and  allowing  it  to 
fall  quickly  again  for  some  time. 


Language  of  the  Menu.  65 

Veloute.—^\z\i  sauce  used  to  heighten  the  flavor 
of  soups  and  made  dishes. 

Voi-au-vent. — A  light  puff  paste,  cut  round  or 
oval,  enclosing  any  delicate  mince-meat. 


SAY(N05  0K5AVARIN 


But  for  life  the  universe  were 
nothing,  and  all  that  has  life  re- 
quires nourishment. 

Animals  feed,  man  eats  ;  the  man  of  sense  and 
culture  alone  understands  eating. 

The  fate  of  nations  depends  upon  how  they  are 
fed. 

Tell  me  what  you  eat,  and  I  will  tell  you  what 
you  are. 

In  compelling  man  to  eat  that  he  may  live, 
Nature  gives  appetite  to  invite  him  and  pleasure 
to  reward  him. 

Good  living  is  due  to  that  action  of  the  judgment 
by  which  the  things  which  please  our  taste  are  pre- 
ferred to  all  others. 

The  pleasures  of  the  table  are  common  to  all 
ages  and  ranks,  to  all  countries  and  times  ;  they 
not  only  harmonize  with  all  the  other  pleasures, 
but  remain  to  console  us  for  their  loss. 

It  is  only  at  table  that  a  man  never  feels  bored 
during  the  first  hour. 

The  discovery  of  a  new  dish  does  more  for  the 


Sayifigs  of  Savarin.  67 

happiness  of  the  human  race  than  the  discovery  of 
a  planet. 

'  A  drunkard  knows  not  how  to  drink,  and  he  who 
eats  too  much,  or  too  quickly,  does  not  know  how 
to  eat. 

In  eating,  the  order  is  from  the  more  substantial 
to  the  lighter.  In  drinking,  the  order  is  from  the 
milder  to  that  which  is  stronger  and  of  finer  flavor. 

To  maintain  that  a  man  must  not  change  his 
wine  is  a  heresy  ;  the  palate  becomes  cloyed,  and, 
after  three  or  four  glasses,  it  is  but  a  deadened 
sensation  that  even  the  best  wine  provokes. 

A  last  course  at  dinner,  wanting  cheese,  is  like  a 
pretty  woman  with  only  one  eye. 

Cookery  is  an  art,  but  to  roast  requires  genius. 

In  a  cook  the  most  essential  quality  is  punctu- 
ality ;  it  should  be  also  that  of  the  guest. 

It  is  a  breach  of  politeness  towards  those  guests 
who  are  punctual  when  they  are  kept  long  waiting 

for  one  who  is  late. 

He  who  receives  friends  without  himself  bestow- 
ing some  pains  upon  the  repast  prepared  for  them, 
does  not  deserve  to  have  friends. 

As  the  coffee  after  dinner  is  the  special  care  of 


68  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

the  lady  of  the  house,  so  the  host  must  see  that  the 
hqueurs  are  the  choicest  possible. 

To  receive  any  one  as  our  guest  is  to  become  re- 
sponsible for  his  happiness  during  the  whole  of  the 
time  he  is  under  our  roof. 


If  Hamlet  was  offended  to  his  soul 
to  hear  a  robustious  periwig-pated 
fellow  tear  passion  to  tatters,  what 
shall  I  say  of  the  man  or  woman  who 
tears  a  salad  to  very  rags  ?  It  is  the 
one  thing  on  the  menu  that  should 
be  considered  a  legal  offence  if  served  improperly. 
I  do  declare  unto  all  of  you  beginners  that  a  plain 
salad  should  not  be  prepared  until  the  time  has 
arrived  for  its  eating.  Most  any  sort  of  salad 
material  will  become  withered  and  toughened  by 
standing  for  any  length  of  time  after  being  mixed. 
First  of  all  look  to  your  oil.  Cheap  oil  will  spoil 
anything.  Pure  sweet  olive-oil,  such  as  any  repu- 
table grocer  can  guarantee  you,  is  the  only  stuff 
to  be  used.  The  simplest  mode  of  preparing  a 
salad  is  called  "  French  dressing."  In  a  large 
tablespoon  held  over  the  salad  put  quarter  of  a 
teaspoonful  of  salt  ;  add  to  this  about  a  quarter  of 
a  teaspoon  of  pepper,  and  then  fill  up  the  large 
spoon  with  oil,  and  mix  with  a  fork.  Throw  this 
over  the  salad,  and  follow  with  three  more  table- 
spoons of  oil,  then  one  tablespoon  of  good  vinegar. 
In  plain  dressing  about  four  parts  of  oil  to  one  of 


JO  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

vinegar  is  a  good  rule.  After  the  dressing  is  thus 
put  upon  the  salad,  turn  the  material  over  gently 
with  the  spoon  and  fork,  and  then  serve.  Remem- 
ber, O  Plebe  !  the  same  rule  about  cutting  an 
oyster  with  a  knife  applies  to  salad. 

That   glorious   old   wit   and   bon  vivant,  Sidney 
Smith,  gave  this  recipe  for  a  "  winter  salad  "  : 

Two  large  potatoes,  pass'd  through  kitchen  sieve, 

Unwonted  softness  to  the  salad  give. 

Of  mordent  mustard  add  a  single  spoon  ; 

Distrust  the  condiment  which  bites  so  soon  : 

But  deem  it  not,  thou  man  of  herbs,  a  fault 

To  add  a  double  quantity  of  salt. 

Three  times  the  spoon  with  oil  of  Lucca  crown, 

And  once  with  vinegar  procured  from  town. 

True  flavour  needs  it,  and  your  poet  begs, 

The  pounded  yellow  of  two  well-boil'd  eggs. 

Let  onion  atoms  lurk  within  the  bowl, 

And,  scarce  suspected,  animate  the  whole. 

And,  lastly,  on  the  favour'd  compound  toss 

A  magic  teaspoonful  of  anchovy  sauce  ; 

Then,  though  green  turtle  fail,  though  venison's  tough, 

And  ham  and  turkey  are  not  boil'd  enough, 

Serenely  full  the  epicure  may  say — 

"  Fate  cannot  harm  me — I  have  dined  to-day." 

The  simplest  green  salads  are  lettuce,  chicory, 
watercress,  fetticus,  dandelion,  escarole  or  endive, 


Salads  and  Sauces.  Jl 

and  they  are  all  more  or  less  appetizing  when 
treated  with  plain  dressing.  Escarole,  chicory,  and 
fetticus  are  especially  good  if  there  is  attached  a 
suspicion  of  garlic,  and  this  can  best  be  done  by 
taking  a  clove  of  garlic,  and  with  a  little  salt  rub 
into  a  crust  of  bread,  and  add  this  to  the  bowl. 
This  is  called  the  "  chapon." 

In  preparing  all  green  salads  take  care  to  select 
only  the  ripest  and  crispest.  It  is  astonishing  to 
me  to  find  how  little  is  known  in  the  average  house- 
hold concerning  all  the  salads  just  mentioned.  I 
find  them  extremely  popular  in  New  York  markets 
and  restaurants,  but  in  the  West,  with  the  exception 
of  lettuce,  they  are  seldom  seen. 

Alexandre  Dumas  devised  this  salad  : 
"  Put  in  a  salad-bowl  a  yolk  of  egg  boiled  hard  ; 
add  a  tablespoonful  of  oil  and  make  a  paste  of  it  ; 
then  add  a  few  stalks  of  chervil  chopped  fine,  a 
teaspoonful  each  of  tunny  and  anchovy  paste,  a 
little  French  mustard,  a  small  pickled  cucumber 
chopped  fine,  and  a  little  soy.  Mix  the  whole  well 
with  two  tablespoonfuls  of  wine  vinegar  ;  then  add 
two  or  three  steamed  potatoes  sliced,  a  few  slices 
of  beet,  same  of  celeriac,  same  of  rampion,  salt  and 
Hungarian  pepper  to  taste  ;  toss  gently  twenty 
minutes,  then  serve." 


72  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

I  had  several  talks  with  the  late  Ward  McAllister, 
but  I  neglected  to  ask  him  if  he  endorsed  such  a 
concoction  as  this.  I  think  Mr.  Dumas,  in  his 
desire  to  astonish  his  palate,  sometimes  forgot 
the  culinary  art  studied  under  the  philosophy  of 
chemistry. 

Potato  Salad. — Potato  salad  is  of  all  seasons, 
and  accessible  to  poor  and  rich.  It  is  simply  made 
of  cold  boiled  potatoes  sliced  and  seasoned  with 
vinegar,  salt,  pepper,  or  any  more  recherchee  salad 
sauce.  Beetroot,  gherkins,  or  any  other  cold  vege- 
tables, may  also  be  added  as  an  improvement,  and, 
for  ornament,  any  of  the  graceful  herbs  of  the 
season. 

Lobster  Salad. —  The  m.ost  universally  ap- 
proved of  all  fish  salads  is  the  lobster  salad,  whether 
as  a  dinner  or  supper  dish.  First  half-nil  the 
bowl  with  the  most  delicate  young  salad  herbs, 
then  blend  the  coral  of  the  lobster  with  the  sauce, 
and  cut  the  meat  of  the  tail  and  claws  into  small 
pieces,  which  place  on  the  vegetables,  intermixed 
with  hard-boiled  eggs  in  slices,  and  slices  of  cu- 
cumber. Surround  with  long  slices  of  lettuce  and 
young  radishes,  and  serve  with  the  sauce  poured 
over.     Sauce  Mayonnaise   is  often  used.     Crabs, 


Salads  and  Sauces.  73 

prawns,  or  shrimps  are  dressed  in  the  same  way  as 
salads. 

Sauce  Mayonnaise. — Beat  up  well  the  yolks  of 
two  fresh  raw  eggs,  a  teaspoonful  of  salt,  and  a 
quarter  as  much  Cayenne  ;  mix  with  this  by  slow 
degrees  four  tablespoonfuls  of  oil,  till  it  is  about 
the  consistence  of  cream,  and  then  stir  in  grad- 
ually two  tablespoonfuls  of  vinegar.  It  requires 
great  care  in  mixing.  A  half  a  teaspoon  of  mus- 
tard may  be  added. 

Sauce  A  l'Italienne. — Chop  an  anchovy  quite 
small,  and  rub  it  quite  smooth  with  a  teaspoonful 
of  made  mustard  and  a  tablespoonful  of  oil  ;  then 
add  by  degrees  three  more  tablespoonfuls  of  oil,  one 
of  garlic  vinegar,  and  one  of  good  wine  vinegar;  stir 
till  all  be  smooth  and  creamy,  and  serve  in  a 
separate  bowl,  to  be  added  to  the  salad  at  table. 

A  salad  can  be  made  of  almost  anything — from 
tomatoes  and  cucumbers  to  sardines,  or  veal  in  place 
of  chicken.  A  great  deal  in  mixing  and  dressing 
must  be  left  to  the  judgment  of  the  salad-master, 
and  any  one  with  good  taste  and  love  of  feasting 
stands  an  equally  good  chance  with  Dumas  in  hit- 
ting upon  something  tasty  in  the  way  of  an  original 
juxtaposition  of  condiments  and  meats. 


74  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafijig-dish. 

My  last  injunction  is  to  remember  the  old  Spanish 
proverb  : 

^'A  spendthrift  for  oil  ;  a  miser  for  vinegar;  a 
barrister  for  salt,  and  a  madman  to  stir  it  up." 

But  you  mustn't  be  a  madman  when  you  stir  up 
lettuce  or  other  dainty  leaves. 

The  story  of  the  salad  had  its  most  famous  reg- 
ister in  a  Frenchman  of  Limousin,  who  made  his 
fortune  in  London  by  his  skill  in  mixing  a  salad. 
Savarin  tells  it  as  follows:  Although  his  means 
were  very  limited,  Albignac  (so  he  was  called  if  I 
remember  aright)  went  one  day  to  dine  in  one  of 
the  rnost  famous  taverns  in  London.  Whilst  he 
was  finishing  his  succulent  beefsteak  there  were 
five  or  six  young  dandies  of  good  family  regaling 
themselves  at  a  neighboring  table.  One  of  them 
came  to  him  and  said  very  politely  :  ''  Sir,  it  is  said 
that  your  nation  excels  in  the  art  of  making  salads. 
Will  you  be  so  good  as  to  oblige  us  by  making 
one?" 

D'Albignac  consenting  after  a  little  hesitation, 
ordered  all  that  he  thought  necessary  for  the  ex- 
pected masterpiece,  used  his  best  endeavors,  and 
had  the  good  luck  to  succeed.  Whilst  studying 
the  ingredients  he  answered  frankly  all  questions 
about  himself. '   He  said  he  was  an  emigrant,  and 


Salads  and  Sauced.  *j$ 

admitted,  not  without  some  natural  shame,  that  he 
was  receiving  assistance  from  the  English  Govern- 
ment— a  circumstance  which  no  doubt  authorized 
one  of  the  young  men  to  slip  into  the  exile's  hand 
a  five-pound  note  and  insist  upon  his  keeping  it. 
He  had  given  his  address,  and  some  time  after  he 
received  a  very  civil  note  requesting  him  to  go  and 
mix  a  salad  in  one  of  the  finest  houses  in  Grosvenor 
Square.  D'Albignac  arrived  punctually,  after  fur- 
nishing himself  with  some  special  seasonings  and 
maturing  his  plans.  He  had  the  good  luck  to  suc- 
ceed again. 

The  first  party  for  whom  he  had  manipulated  had 
exaggerated  the  merits  of  his  salad,  and  the  second 
company  made  so  much  more  noise  about  it  that 
d'Albignac's  reputation  was  already  made.  He  was 
known  as  the  fashionable  salad-maker,  and  soon  had 
a  gig  in  order  to  keep  his  appointments,  with  a  serv- 
ant to  bring  in  his  mahogany  case,  containing  all 
the  ingredients,  such  as  vinegar  of  different  flavors, 
oils  with  or  without  a  fruity  taste,  soy,  caviare, 
truffles,  anchovies,  ketchups,  gravies,  and  even 
hard-boiled  eggs.  Later  he  got  cases  made  to 
order,  furnished  them  completely,  and  sold  them 
by  the  hundreds.  In  short,  having  diligently  car- 
ried out  his  plans  with  sense  and  discretion,  he  came 
to  realize  a  fortune  of  more  than  eighty  thousand 


j6  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

francs  ;  and,  returning  to  his  own  country  when 
peace  was  restored,  he  invested  sixty  thousand  in 
the  public  funds — then  selling  at  fifty  per  cent. — 
and  the  rest  in  a  small  estate  in  Limousin,  his 
native  country. 

Sauce  Bordelaise  for  Meats. — Put  one  table- 
spoonful  of  butter  in  saucepan  and  brown  ;  add 
two  tablespoonfuls  of  flour  ;  brown  again  ;  add  one 
pint  of  stock.  When  boiling  add  a  slice  of  onion, 
an  ounce  of  chopped  ham,  a  bay-leaf,  a  clove  of 
garlic,  a  half  teaspoonful  of  salt,  a  dash  of  Cayenne. 
Simmer  ten  minutes  ;  strain  ;  add  another  table- 
spoonful  of  butter,  a  quarter  pound  of  peeled 
mushrooms. 

Perigueux  Sauce. — Chop  up  fine  two  truffles. 
Place  them  in  a  pan  with  a  glass  of  Madeira  wine  ; 
boil  for  about  five  minutes.  Add  a  dash  of  Es- 
pagnole  sauce.  Allow  this  just  to  come  to  a  boil ; 
remove  from  the  stove  and  serve  while  very  hot. 

Sauce  Ma^tre  d'H6tel. — Melt  half  a  pound 
of  butter,  strain  the  juice  of  one  lemon  into  it,  and 
add  Cayenne,  salt,  and  spoonful  of  parsley  to  suit 
the  taste.     Simmer  one  minute. 

Sauce  Tartare. — Put  into  a  dish  yolks  of  two 


Salads  and  Sauces.  77 

eg'gg,  a  teaspoonful  of  vinegar,  and  a  little  salt. 
Mix  this  quickly  into  a  cream.  Then  add  a  tea- 
spoonful  of  mustard  well  mixed,  a  little  Cayenne, 
and  a  pinch  of  parsley.  The  oil  (two  spoonfuls) 
should  now  be  added  drop  by  drop. 

Sauce  Robert. — This  sauce  is  served  hot.  Cut 
two  onions  in  small  pieces,  fry  light-brown  in  but- 
ter, dredge  a  little  flour  in  the  pan,  add  a  teaspoon 
of  vinegar  and  a  little  pepper  and  salt.  Boil  up, 
and  add  half  pint  of  stock  or  water.  Stir  over  Ihe 
fire  for  half  an  hour,  then  mix  in  a  teaspoonful  pf 
mustard  and  one  of  anchovy.  Stir  for  two  or  three 
minutes,  and  then  pour  on  your  chops,  cutlets,  or 
steak. 

Chutney  Sauce. — Four  pounds  of  apples  cut  in 
quarters,  and  boil  until  tender  in  a  quart  of  vinegar. 
Now  boil  in  another  quart  of  vinegar  three  pounds 
of  brown  sugar.  Mix  both  together,  and,  when  cold, 
add  one  pound  of  currants,  one  pound  of  raisins, 
half  a  pound  of  salt,  quarter  pound  of  ginger,  three 
ounces  of  clear  garlic,  and  one  ounce  of  red  pepper. 
The  fruit  must  be  minced  fine. 

Sauce  Financiere. — A  pint  of  rich  stock,  an 
ounce  of  brown  thickening,  one  glass  of  Madeira, 


y^  The  Bachelor  ajtd  the  Chafitig-dish. 

one  glass  of  mushroom  ketchup,  a  pinch  of  Cay- 
enne, and  a  piece  of  glaze.  Boil  the  stock  well  up 
with  the  thickening,  then  other  condiments.  Sim- 
mer fifteen  minutes,  skim  it,  then  add  the  glaze. 
Strain  for  use. 

Epicurean  Sauce. — It  takes  time  to  make  this, 
for  after  its  preparation  it  must  be  kept  corked  in 
a  warm  place  for  a  fortnight,  and  should  be  shaken 
every  day.  Then  it  must  be  strained  and  put  in 
small  bottles  for  use.  It  is  a  most  delicious  and 
valuable  sauce,  and  is  made  as  follows  :  Half  a 
pint  of  mushroom  ketchup,  half  a  pint  of  walnut 
ketchup,  two  glasses  of  port  wine,  two  of  Indian 
soy,  three  ounces  of  shallots,  half  an  ounce  of 
Cayenne,  half  an  ounce  of  cloves,  pint  and  a  half 
of  vinegar,  and  a  little  pepper.     Mix  well. 


.fILlDlSH 


"  .     .     .    Curious  viands  are  prepared 
To  please  all  kinds  of  appetite." 

— Massinger. 

"  Deviling  "  is  simply  the  art  of 
frying  anything  well  in  a  chafing-dish,  in  various 
hot  condiments  to  suit  the  taste.  Our  bachelor  with 
a  convenient  larder  should  never  be  at  a  loss  to  get 
up  a  snack  of  something  for  a  suddenly  desired 
little  luncheon  at  any  hour  of  the  day.  Canned 
herrings,  shrimps,  sardines,  boned  chicken,  turkey, 
tongue,  salmon — even  Bologna  sausage— all  can  be 
easily  deviled,  and  the  appetite  tempted. 

Stir  in  the  chafing-dish  enough  olive- oil  to  flood 
it,  a  spoonful  of  mustard,  half  a  spoonful  of  papri- 
ka, a  little  salt,  and  the  same  of  black  pepper- 
Fry  until  the  meat  is  well  browned.  Rare  roast 
beef  cut  in  slices  is  excellent  served  this  way,  and 
further  zest  may  be  obtained  by  adding  a  few 
whole  olives.  The  dish  should  be  watched  and 
covered  between  times. 


The  English  admiral  Ross  left  to  the  cooking 
world  a  successful  recipe  for  ''  Indian  Devil  Mix- 
ture."    This  is  it  : 


8o  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

Four  tablespoons  of  cold  gravy,  one  of  chutney- 
paste,  one  of  ketchup,  one  of  vinegar,  two  tea- 
spoons of  made  mustard,  two  of  salt,  and  two  of 
butter.  Mix  these  ingredients  first  smoothly  in  a 
soup-plate. 

Deviled  Duck. — A  dish  that  is  generally  liked 
is  deviled  duck.  To  prepare  it  remove  the  skin 
and  bones  of  cold  roast  duck  and  cut  the  meat  into 
moderate-sized  pieces.  Boil  the  livers  and  mash 
to  a  paste,  and  put  in  a  saucepan  with  one  table- 
spoonful  of  dry  mustard,  one  teaspoonful  of  salt,  a 
dash  of  Cayenne  pepper,  and  two  tablespoonfuls  of 
lemon  juice.  Mix  thoroughly  and  gradually  ;  add 
two  tablespoonfuls  of  melted  butter  and  the  same 
amount  of  water.  In  this  put  one  and  one-half 
pints  of  the  cold  duck  and  one  gill  of  Madeira. 
Place  the  saucepan  over  the  fire  and  stir  until  the 
mixture  is  smoking  hot.     Turn  on  a  hot  dish. 

Deviled  Kidneys. — Twelve  sheeps'  kidneys 
split  in  half  ;  remove  the  white  tubes  and  the  cen- 
tre fat  portion  ;  scald  the  kidneys  and  remove  the 
skin.  Put  two  ounces  of  butter  in  a  saucepan  ; 
when  hot  throw  in  the  kidneys  ;  cook  quickly  ; 
dust  with  salt  and  pepper  ;  put  over  a  tablespoonful 
of  onion  juice,  tablespoonfijl  Worcestershire  sauce^ 


The  Devil  Dish.  8 1 

and  four  tablespoonfuls  sherry.      Serve  smoking 
hot. 

Deviled  Lobster. — Make  a  paste  with  salt,  dry 
mustard,  curry  powder,  black  pepper,  and  table  oil ; 
spread  it  over  the  lobster,  melt  an  ounce  of  butter 
in  the  dish,  lay  in  the  lobster,  cook  ten  minutes  if 
fresh,  and  simply  heat  through  if  canned. 

Devil — *'  Like  my  Mother  used  to  Make."— 
Cold  rare  roast  beef  sliced,  well  buttered  as  you 
would  bread  ;  cover  with  mixed  mustard,  a  little 
black  pepper  and  salt,  a  spoonful  of  vinegar,  and 
fry  until  it  curls. 

Deviled  Eggs  and  Anchovy  Toast. — Put  a 
walnut  of  butter  in  the  chafing-dish,  half  a  tea- 
spoonful  of  dry  mustard,  two  tablespoonfuls  of 
tomato  sauce,  one  of  Worcester  and  one  of  mush- 
room sauce.  Put  into  this  four  hard-boiled  eggs 
sliced,  salted  and  peppered.  When  heated  place 
the  eggs  on  toast,  previously  spread  with  anchovy 
paste. 


HE-AUToCRATa^ 
tteGHAFIN(i-DI3H 


"  What  will  this  sister  of  mine  do  with 
rice  ?  But  my  father  hath  made  her  mis- 
tress of  the  feast  and  she  lays  it  on  !  " — 
Winter's  Tale. 

Curried  Rice. — One  of  the 
simplest  and  most  palatable  of 
dishes  is  curried  rice.  Wash  half 
a  pound  of  rice  in  two  waters 
and  pick  it  very  clean.  Put  it 
into  two  quarts  of  boiling  water, 
in  which  two  teaspoonfuls  of  salt 
have  been  thrown  ;  stew  slowly, 
uncovered,  keeping  down  the 
boiling  by  adding  a  cup  of  cold 
water  once  or  twice,  for  fifteen 
minutes,  taking  care  the  grains 
do  not  break.  Turn  it  out  and 
drain  it  on  a  napkin  till  dry, 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafiiig-dish.  83 

then  put  it  into  a  stewpan  with  an  ounce  of  butter. 
Do  not  stir  or  touch  the  rice  while  boiling  ;  the 
water  will  keep  the  grains  apart,  and  preserve  them 
from  breaking.  Dish  up  separately,  and  serve  with 
any  curry. 

It  will  add  much  to  the  flavor  to  boil  an  onion  in 
with  the  rice.  The  Arabs  steep  the  grains  in  butter 
(ghee)  before  boiling,  to  prevent  the  escape  of  the 
gluten,  or  starch,  and  declare  that  the  nourishment 
is  withdrawn  from  the  grain  and  communicated  to 
the  liquor  without  this  precaution. 

However,  in  serving  rice  with  curry,  mix  a 
spoonful  of  the  curry  paste  with  brown  gravy,  and 
pour  on  the  rice  as  it  is  ready  to  serve.  It  will  be 
further  improved  by  squeezing  in  half  of  a  lemon. 

Curry  of  Meats. — Put  a  "  walnut  "  of  butter, 
or  a  tablespoon  of  olive-oil,  into  the  chafing-dish. 
When  it  is  quite  melted,  add  a  tablespoonful  of 
minced  onion,  and  after  that  is  browned  add  a  full 
teaspoon  of  curry  powder.  Now  cook  for  five 
minutes  ;  then  add  a  pint  of  soup-stock,  couple  of 
pinches  of  salt  ;  then  simmer  until  reduced  to  nearly 
one-half.  Into  this  put  the  picked  meat  and  warm 
up.  Other  curries  are,  of  course,  made  the  same 
way,  or  slightly  varied  to  suit  the  taste — by  the  ad- 
dition, for  instance,  of  paprika,  chutney  sauce^  etc 


84  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

Curries  of  lobsters,  scallops,  shrimps,  and  crabs 
are  especially  delicious.  Veal  chops,  sweetbreads, 
and  salmon  may  be  treated  the  same  way. 

Rice  Compote. — This  is  the  way  I  saw  Mrs. 
Rorer  make  it :  Into  the  chafing-dish  went  four 
tablespoonfuls  of  sugar,  four  of  sherry  (claret  is 
equally  good),  and  one  sliced  banana.  To  this  was 
added  four  tablespoonfuls  of  cold  boiled  rice.  It 
was  kept  covered  while  the  banana  cooked  tender 
to  keep  the  wine  flavor  from  escaping.  When  the 
cover  was  raised  to  add  one-half  a  pineapple, 
shredded  in  with  a  silver  fork,  the  odor  was  de- 
licious, and  everybody  sniffed  approvingly.  Two 
minutes'  cooking  finished  it. 

Calf's  Liver  and  Bacon. — Slice  both  liver  and 
bacon  quite  thin  :  cook  well  in  the  chafing-dish 
until  the  liver  is  thoroughly  browned  and  curled. 

Chops  or  Steaks. — Dredge  them  with  flour. 
Have  the  frying-pan  perfectly  clean  and  hot,  then 
put  in  butter  or  clarified,  fresh  beef-suet,  which 
makes  excellent  fat  for  frying  ;  put  in  the  steaks 
(or  chops),  and  turn  them  frequently  to  preserve 
the  gravy.  In  fifteen  minutes,  if  the  fire  be  in 
proper  condition,  they  will  be  cooked  ;  dredge  them 
\yith  a  little  salt  and  pepper  before  you  take  thent 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish. 


85 


from  the  pan  ;  transfer  them  to  a  hot  dish,  pour 
the  fat  from  the  pan,  and  put  in  two  ounces 
of  butter  rolled  in  flour,  and  a  cup  of  gravy  or 
stock,  and  when  it  has  simmered  for  a  minute,  pour 
it  over  the  meat. 

Cut  the   fillet 
n^^f*  y^\^  of  a  roast  sirloin 

of  beef  into 
pieces  about 
two  inches 
square  ;  dredge 
them  with  flour, 
and  fry  in  but- 
ter till  they  are 
brown;  then 
put  the  meat  into  a  stewpan  with  half  a  pint  of 
good  gravy,  a  teaspoonful  of  salt,  half  a  teaspoon- 
ful  of  pepper,  and  one  anchovy  ;  add  a  tablespoon- 
ful  of  port  wine,  and  let  it  simmer  five  minutes  ; 
then  turn  out  and  pour  the  gravy  over,  with  a  table- 
spoonful  of  lemon  juice  after  the  meat  is  dished. 


:i  ^^cr^-' 


Mock  Venison  a  la  Murrey. — A  heaping  tea- 
spoonful  of  butter  was  put  in  the  handled  dish  and 
worked  with  a  spoon  until  it  began  to  cream  and 
foam  ;  then  two  very  thick  slices  from  a  well-hung 
leg  of  mutton  were  put  in,  turned  in  the  butter 


S6  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

once  or  twice,  seasoned  with  salt,  Cayenne,  two 
tablespoonfuls  of  currant  jelly,  and  a  gill  of  port, 
and  simmered  for  five  or  six  minutes  longer. 

Chicken  Livers  a  la  James  Clarence  Har- 
vey.— Wash  and  dry  a  dozen  and  a  half  selected 
livers  after  scalding.  Melt  a  walnut  of  butter  in  the 
blazer,  and  for  three  minutes  move  the  livers  about 
as  they  change  color;  then  add  quarter  of  a  glass 
of  white  wine,  in  which  place  half  a  dozen  fresh 
mushrooms,  medium  size,  chopped  fine;  season  with 
salt,  pepper,  and  a  dash  of  paprika;  reduce  the  heat, 
and,  after  five  minutes  of  simmering,  serve  on  hot 
toast,  crisp  and  brown,  from  which  the  crust  has 
been  cut  before  toasting. 

Live  and  let  live  is  a  maxim  good. 

But  to  live  on  these  livers  the  chick  must  die; 
And  the  liver  preparing  them  just  as  he  should 

Will  evermore  chuckle  when  chicks  pass  by. 

Sausage  a  la  '*  D.  W." — Fry  sliced  sausage 
quickly  in  fresh  butter,  add  chopped  celery  and 
paprika,  and  serve  on  toast,  without  the  gravy, 
previously  spread  while  hot  with  anchovy  paste. 

Sweetbreads  Larded. — Parboil  two  sweet- 
t)reads.     When  cold  lar4  them  down  the  centra 


The  Autocrat  ajid  the  Chafing-dish.  %'J 

With  strips  of  bacon,  on  each  side  with  thin  shreds 
of  lemon-peel,  and  on  each  side  of  the  lemon  with 
very  small  pieces  of  pickled  cucumber.  Put  them 
in  the  chafing-dish,  with  three-quarters  of  a  pint  of 
rich  gravy  thickened  with  flour.  When  done  stir 
in  mushroom  ketchup,  to  the  taste,  a  little  lemon 
juice,  and  serve  very  hot. 

Sweetbreads  A  la  Roumage.  —  Have  ready 
four  medium-sized  parboiled  sweetbreads,  firm  and 
cold.  Fry  in  a  tablespoonful  of  butter  two  table- 
spoonfuls  of  minced  onion,  four  cloves,  a  bit  of 
mace,  and  a  trifle  of  bay-leaves,  with  four  bruised 
peppercorns  ;  when  the  onion  is  very  brown,  add  a 
pint  of  broth  ;  boil  until  reduced  one-half,  and  strain 
if  the  bits  of  onion  and  seasonings  are  objected  to. 
Add  half  a  can  of  mushrooms,  cut  into  slices,  to 
this  gravy,  with  four  sliced  truffles  ;  thicken  with 
half  a  teaspoonful  of  flour,  color  with  kitchen  bou- 
quet, add  a  tablespoonful  of  mushroom  ketchup  and 
a  gill  of  port ;  lay  in  the  sweetbreads  and  simmer 
a  few  minutes. 

Sweetbreads  with  Peas. — Put  into  the  lower 
dish  (hot-water  dish)  a  walnut  of  butter,  and  turn 
in  this  three  or  four  small  sweetbreads,  which  have 
first  been  in  cold  water,  parboiled,  and  the  tough 


SS  The  bachelor  and  the  Chafi7ig-dish, 

parts  removed.  Add  half  a  pint  of  beef  gravy,  a 
chopped  celery-leaf,  and  season  with  salt  and  pep- 
per—or celery  salt  may  be  used  instead  of  the  leaf. 
Put  in  half  a  teaspoon  of  browned  flour.  Now  put 
the  blazer  over  this  dish,  into  which  has  been 
emptied  a  can  of  French  peas  and  a  tablespoon  of 
butter,  with  salt  and  pepper.  When  the  peas  have 
been  just  heated  through  serve  together. 

Kidneys  and  Mushrooms. — After  scalding  six 
lambs'  kidneys,  skin  them.  Cut  into  slices  half  a 
can  of  French  mushrooms.  Put  into  the  blazer  a 
walnut  of  butter,  a  minced  onion,  and  a  bay-leaf  ; 
when  the  onion  is  brown  add  a  teaspoon  of 
browned  flour  and  a  pint  of  beef-broth.  Add  a 
spoonful  of  kitchen  bouquet,  half  a  teaspoon  of 
sak,  some  pepper.  Now  put  in  the  kidneys  and 
mushrooms  and  stir  for  six  minutes. 

Calf's  Liver  en  Matelote. — Cut  the  liver 
into  rather  thick  slices  and  soak  for  a  few  moments 
in  cold  water.  Drain  and  then  dredge  with  flour 
and  fry  a  nice  brown  in  butter.  In  the  meantime 
mince  two  shallots  and  put  into  the  stewpan  with 
a  sprig  of  chopped  parsley,  pepper  and  salt,  and 
a  couple  of  cloves.  Pour  in  a  glass  of  wine,  and 
when  it  is  boiled  up  add  the  fried  liver  and  serve 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish.  ^9 

very  hot.     It  will  take  a  good  half-hour  to  cook 
this  dish,  but  it  is  worth  the  trouble. 

Entree  of  Veal  Cutlet. — Dip  the  cutlets  in 
the  yolks  of  beaten  eggs  and  cover  with  bread- 
crumbs mixed  with  Cayenne,  salt,  nutmeg,  table- 
spoonful  of  minced  herbs,  and  peel  of  half  a  lemon 
chopped  fine  as  possible.  Fry  a  nice  brown  in 
butter. 

Pork  Cutlets  with  Sauce  Robert. — Pour 
sauce  Robert  over  some  nicely  trimmed  cutlets  in 
the  stewpan  that  have  previously  been  brushed 
over  with  yolk  of  ^%g  and  sprinkled  with  chopped 
herbs. 

Chops. — Put  four  little  lamb  chops  into  the  dish, 
with  a  teaspoon  of  butter  for  each  chop.  Heat  the 
butter  first,  and  when  the  chops  are  added  cover 
for  a  moment.  Turn  and  season  with  salt  and 
pepper,  and  they  should  be  a  golden  brown  and 
done  to  a  turn  in  four  and  a  half  minutes.  An 
English  chop  will  take  twelve  minutes  and  a  mut- 
ton chop  seven. 

Breakfast  Kidney  and  Eggs. — Prepare  four 
lamb  kidneys  by  scalding  and  skinning.     Put  into 


90  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

the  chafing-dish  a  walnut  of  butter  and  half  a  tea- 
spoon of  chopped  onions.  When  browned  add  a 
tablespoonful  of  water,  and  then  drop  into  the  dish 
four  raw  eggs.     As  soon  as  these  set  serve  the  dish. 

Kidneys  with  Potatoes. — Prepare  kidneys 
same  as  above.  Fry  in  small  dice  pieces  three 
raw  potatoes.  Keep  them  well  stirred  in  a  table- 
spoon of  butter.  Then  put  in  the  kidneys,  with 
half  a  pint  of  brown  gravy,  if  you  have  it.  Season 
with  salt  and  pepper  and  a  little  mushroom  ketchup. 

Steak  Gollasch. — Cut  up  a  raw  tenderloin 
steak  into  small  pieces  and  cut  into  dice  two  raw 
potatoes.  Put  into  the  dish  a  tablespoonful  of 
olive- oil,  and  when  hot  add  a  teaspoonful  of  onion 
and  half  a  teaspoon  of  paprika,  and  the  potatoes 
and  meat  with  half  a  pint  of  brown  gravy.  Season 
to  suit,  put  on  the  cover,  and  stir  often  during  the 
ten  minutes  required  to.  cook  it. 

Tenderloin  Steak,  Whole. — A  tenderloin 
steak  an  inch  and  a  half  thick  can  be  cooked  to  a 
nicety  in  the  chafing-dish.  Flood  the  dish  first 
with  olive-oil,  and  when  hot  put  in  the  steak  and 
cover  up.  Cook  three  minutes  on  each  side,  season 
to  suit,  and  when  removing  the  steak  add  two 
tablespoons  of  water  and  pour  over  it. 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish,  9I 

"Howard's  Hash  :  The  Kind  of  Hash  that 
Mother  Used  to  Make." — Chop  the  corn-beef 
and  the  boiled  potatoes  together  very  fine  ;  put 
into  the  chafing-dish  (over  the  hot-water  dish) 
with  a  prodigaHty  of  butter,  and  season  well.  Keep 
up  constant  turning  until  well  heated  through.  Add 
a  little  water  if  too  dry,  and  let  simmer  for  a  while. 

Hash  a  la  Murrey. — Cut  into  small  pieces  two 
pounds  of  corn-beef,  and  cut  into  dice  raw  potatoes 
which,  when  cut  up,  will  equal  in  bulk  the  cut-up 
meat.  Cut  up  one  large  sour  apple,  and  chop  all 
together.  Cut  up  fine  two  medium-sized  onions 
and  a  large  sweet  Spanish  pepper.  Now  put  into 
a  large  frying-pan  a  scant  tablespoonful  of  beef 
drippings  or  oil — butter  will  not  do  ;  when  hot 
add  the  onion  and  fry  a  delicate  brown.  Next  add 
the  pepper,  toss  about  for  a  few  moments,  then 
add  a  gill  of  strong  beef-stock,  after  which  the 
other  chopped  ingredients  and  a  pint  more  of  beef- 
stock  or  strong  broth.  Mix  well,  cover,  and  sim- 
mer thirty  minutes.  Should  the  moisture  evaporate 
too  quickly  before  the  ingredients  are  cooked,  add 
more  of  the  broth.  Stir  to  prevent  sticking  to  the 
pan.  Taste  for  seasoning,  and  put  away  until  next 
day,  when  it  should  be  warmed  in  the  chafing-dish 
with  hot-water  dish  underneath  it. 


92 


The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 


Commodore  Gerry  Crab. — A  large  slice  of 
good  cheese  mashed  to  a  paste  with  vinegar,  mus- 
tard, salt  and  pepper,  and  eaten  on  toasted  cracker. 
It  has  the  flavor  of  a  crab. 

Salmi. — Cut  up  remains  of  cold  birds  ;  put  some 
butter  in  the  pan,  a  glass  of  port  wine,  two  spoon- 
fuls of  ketchup,  one  of  lemon  juice,  and  a  shallot. 
Cook  your  game  in  this  sauce. 


Directly  after 
_^-  the  battle    of 

.rCnOO  Marengo,  Napo- 
\^  leon  Bonaparte, 
fatigued  and 
hungry,  ordered 
a  fowl  for  his 
supper.  His 
cook  discovered  that  there  was  no  butter,  so  he 
poured  oil  into  his  skillet  instead.  To  this  he 
added  some  seasoning  and  a  glass  of  white  wine. 
The  dish  was  served  hot,  garnished  with  mush- 
rooms, and  Bonaparte  said  it  was  as  great  a 
success  as  the  battle. 


Spring  Chicken. — A  dainty  and  tender  spring 
chicken  can  be  split  and  cooked  in  a  chafing-dish 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish.  93 

almost  as  well  as  it  can  be  treated  in  broiling. 
But  fry  it  in  the  best  oil,  instead  of  butter,  and  you 
will  find  it  delicious  if  handled  properly. 

Chafed  Duck. — Cut  the  ducks  into  six  pieces 
each,  wash  each  piece  and  roll  in  flour,  sprinkle 
salt  and  pepper  and  a  tiny  bit  of  dry  mustard  over 
each,  and  then  dip  in  a  beaten  ^g%  and  bread- 
crumbs, and  fry  in  butter  to  a  nice  brown.  Slice 
some  small  tomatoes  and  fry  in  the  same  dish  with 
the  ducks.  Put  the  pieces  of  duck  in  the  centre 
of  a  heated  dish,  and  place  the  tomatoes  around 
them.  Meanwhile  cook  some  French  peas,  and 
make  a  border  around  the  tomatoes.  Scatter 
chopped  parsley  over  the  whole,  and  serve. 

Duck  Ragout. — To  make  a  ragout  of  duck, 
cut  the  duck  into  pieces  large  enough  to  serve,  and 
place  in  a  saucepan  with  half  a  pint  of  clear  stock, 
season  with  salt  and  a  little  Cayenne  pepper,  and 
let  it  heat  slowly  until  it  comes  to  boiling  point. 
Add  half  a  can  of  mushrooms  and  one  dozen  pitted 
olives,  and  cook  five  minutes.  Then  add  half  a 
pint  of  Spanish  sauce,  and  cook  until  it  again  boils; 
then  add  half  a  tumbler  of  sherry  or  Madeira  and 
the  juice  of  a  lemon.  Heap  the  pieces  of  duck 
in   the  centre   of  a  hot  platter,  and  arrange  the 


94  'The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dis,^^ 

mushrooms  and  olives  around  them.  Finish  the 
edge  with  triangular  pieces  of  toast.  Pour  the 
sauce  over  the  duck  and  serve  hot. 

Chicken  A  la  Poulette. — This  is  the  way 
Mrs.  Lemcke  made  it  in  a  chafing-dish  before  an 
audience  :  She  placed  a  chicken  weighing  three 
pounds  over  the  fire  and  covered  it  with  boiling 
water,  after  putting  in  two  onions,  one  bouquet, 
and  one-half  tablespoonful  of  salt.  This  she 
covered  and  cooked  slowly  until  done,  when  she 
removed  the  skin  and  bones,  and  cut  the  white 
meat  into  pieces  one- half  an  inch  in  size.  Then 
she  stirred  two  ounces  of  butter  and  two  table- 
spoonfuls  of  flour  over  the  fire  three  minutes,  add- 
ing to  it  gradually  one  pint  of  chicken  broth,  one 
teaspoonful  of  salt,  one-half  teaspoonful  of  nut- 
meg, and  a  small  bouquet,  choking  all  five  minutes. 
Next  she  mixed  one-half  pint  of  cream  with  the 
yolks  of  four  eggs,  a  teaspoonful  of  fine-chopped 
parsley,  and  added  this  to  the  sauce,  stirring  it  a 
few  minutes  over  the  fire  without  boiling.  Then 
she  drew  the  saucepan  to  the  side  of  the  stove  and 
put  in  the  fine-cut  chicken  and  a  pair  of  fine- 
chopped  sweetbreads,  which  she  had  previously 
prepared  by  putting  them  in  a  pan  and  covering 
them  with  cold  water.     In  another  pan  over  the 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish,  95 

fire  she  put  a  tablespoonful  of  butter.  The  sweet- 
breads were  drained  and  dried,  put  into  the  butter, 
covered,  and  cooked  slowly  after  an  even  teaspoon- 
ful  of  seasoning  salt  had  been  added  to  them. 

Ham.— Put  half  a  walnut  of  butter  in  the  chafing- 
dish,  and,  when  melted,  add  two  tablespoons  of 
jelly — any  fruit — a  dash  of  red  pepper,  and  half 
a  glass  of  sherry.  Place  sliced  or  cut-up  ham  in 
this  and  simmer  for  a  few  moments.  Dried  beef 
may  be  served  the  same  way. 

Crabs,  Soft-shell. — Clean  and  rem^ove  sand- 
pouch  and  gill-like  growth  under  the  shells.  Dry 
with  a  towel,  dredge  with  flour,  and  fry  in  chafing- 
dish  with  oil  or  butter. 

Canape  Lorenzo. — This  locally  famous  dish, 
the  recipe  of  the  late  Lorenzo  Delmonico,  can  only 
be  partly  made  in  a  chafing-dish,  for  in  its  finale  it 
needs  a  quick  baking.  One  will  find  this  canape 
on  the  menus  of  the  Waldorf  or  Arena  cafes,  but 
it  can  only  be  obtained  in  all  its  glory  at  Del's. 
For  a  lunch,  with  "  a  cold  bottle,"  I  prefer  it  infi- 
nitely to  "a  hot  duck."  Ah,  but  it  has  "a  get 
there  "  aroma  !  So  I  chronicle  it  here  for  history's 
sake  :  Drop  six  live  hard-shell  crabs  into  boiling 


96  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

water,  add  one  tablespoonful  of  salt,  boil  fifteen 
minutes;  then  remove.  When  cold  enough  to 
handle,  take  off  the  upper  shell,  extract  all  the 
meat,  crack  the  claws  and  pick  out  the  meat ; 
season  with  one  even  teaspoonful  of  salt  and  a 
little  Cayenne  pepper  ;  then  measure — there  should 
be  a  good  pint  of  crab  meat.  Place  a  small  sauce- 
pan, with  a  tablespoonful  of  butter,  over  the  fire ; 
add  two  tablespoonfuls  of  fine-chopped  white 
onions,  cook  five  minutes  without  browning  ;  add 
one  heaping  tablespoonful  of  flour,  stir  and  cook 
two  minutes  ;  add  half  a  cupful  of  white  broth, 
stir  for  a  few  minutes  longer  ;  then  add  one  pint 
of  crab  meat,  stir  and  cook  eight  minutes.  Cut 
six  slices  of  bread,  cut  off  the  crust,  and  fry  light 
brown  in  butter  on  both  sides.  Spread  the  crab 
mixture  in  equal  portions  over  the  bread  and  set 
aside.  In  the  meantime  melt  one  tablespoonful  of 
butter,  add  one  tablespoonful  of  flour,  cook  and 
stir  a  few  minutes  ;  remove  from  the  fire,  add  four 
tablespoonfuls  of  grated  Parmesan  cheese  and  the 
same  of  grated  Swiss  cheese  ;  mix  the  ingredients 
well  and  form  into  round  balls  of  equal  size.  Place 
them  in  the  centre  of  the  canapes,  pressing  a  little 
in  the  centre.  Put  the  canapes  into  a  baking-pan 
and  bake  light  brown  in  a  hot  oven,  which  will 
take   about   ten   minutes ;  then   remove  ;  arrange 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish.  97 

them  on  a  hot  dish  and  serve  at  once.  If  Swiss 
and  Parmesan  cheese  are  not  handy,  take  either 
the  American  or  English  cheese.  Canapes  of  lob- 
ster are  prepared  in  the  same  way. 

Corn  Oysters. — To  a  can  of  green  corn  add 
one  tablespoonful  of  butter,  one-half  of  a  cup  of 
milk,  three  eggs,  and  one  tablespoonful  of  flour, 
salt  and  pepper  to  taste.  Stir  the  mixture  thor- 
oughly and  fry  as  pancakes  in  a  chafing-dish 
containing  equal  quantities  of  hot  butter  and  lard. 

Oyster  Crabs. — Heat  a  pint  of  oyster  crabs 
with  a  little  butter,  and  serve  on  small  pieces  of 
toast  without  further  seasoning.  This  is  a  delicate 
way  of  beginning  a  luncheon. 

Crabs  A  la  Creole. — Into  the  hot-water  dish 
melt  an  ounce  of  butter,  and  cook  in  it  for  five 
minutes  a  small  onion  and  a  sweet  Spanish  pepper 
minced  ;  stir  while  frying,  and  add  a  half-pint 
of  strained  tomato  pulp,  a  gill  of  chicken  broth, 
and  four  soft  crabs  cleaned  and  cut  in  two.  Use 
celery  salt  in  the  seasoning,  and  simmer  seven 
minutes. 

Clams  a  la  Newberg. — Open  twenty-five  fresh 
soft-shelled  clams.     Put  into  a  saucepan  with  one 


98  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

tablespoonful  of  butter  ;  stir  until  heated  ;  add  one 
tablespoonful  of  flour  and  cook  until  it  thickens. 
Beat  the  yolks  of  two  eggs  light  ;  add  one  cup  of 
cream  ;  beat  well  and  pour  over  the  clams  ;  stir 
thoroughly  until  heated  and  cooked,  but  do  not 
boil.  Take  them  from  the  fire,  add  two  tablespoon- 
fuls  of  Madeira,  and  serve  at  once. 

Clam  Bisque. — Drain  twenty-five  clams,  pour- 
ing over  them  one  cup  of  cold  water.  Put  the 
liquor  over  the  fire  ;  let  it  boil,  and  skim.  Chop  the 
clams  very  fine  ;  add  them  to  the  liquor  ;  let  boil 
again,  and  skim.  Rub  together  one  large  table- 
spoonful of  butter  and  three  of  flour,  and  add  to 
the  clams  with  a  quarter  of  a  cup  of  bread-crumbs  ; 
stir  and  cook  until  it  thickens.  Press  through  a 
sieve  ;  return  to  the  dish,  and  when  ready  to  serve 
add  one  pint  of  cream. 

Clams  A  la  Boston. — Cut  into  pieces  size  of 
dice  eighth  of  a  pound  of  salt  pork  and  fry  it  crisp 
in  the  chafing-dish.  Add  a  dozen  soft  clams,  freed 
from  the  tough  part,  and  saute  them  in  the  pork 
fat.     Serve  on  Boston  brown  bread. 

Cro(jte  Clam  a  la  Halm. — Take  a  Vienna 
roll,  cut  out  a  piece  of  the  crust  the  size  of  a  half-.. 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish.  99 

dollar,  and  remove  the  soft  bread  from  the  inte- 
rior. Open  as  many  of  the  smallest  little-neck  clams 
as  will  fill  the  roll,  replace  the  small  piece  pf  crust, 
and  place  in  the  oven  for  ten  minutes.  Take  the 
juice  from  the  clams,  make  a  little  thickening  of 
flour  and  the  juice,  mix  with  it,  to  taste,  paprika, 
black  pepper,  Worcestershire  sauce,  and  tabasco, 
and  heat.  Remove  the  croute  from  the  oven,  and 
pour  sauce  over  the  whole.  Serve  on  hot  plate, 
and  quickly.  This  recipe  may  not  properly  belong 
to  the  chafing-dish  on  account  of  the  baking  that 
is  needed,  but  it  may  come  in  apropos  sometime. 

Oysters. — To  fry:  Choose  large,  plump  oys- 
ters ;  put  into  the  stewpan  with  their  own  liquor 
only,  and  simmer  for  three  minutes,  then  dip  them 
into  batter,  and  fry  in  a  quantity  of  oil  or  butter  a 
delicate  brown  ;  add  no  seasoning. 

To  stew :  Put  fresh  oysters  into  a  stewpan  with 
the  whole  of  the  liquor  from  the  shells,  and  sim- 
mer very  gently  for  five  minutes  ;  then  add  a 
quarter  of  a  pint  of  cream  and  two  ounces  of  but- 
ter rolled  in  flour,  and  continue  to  simmer  for  five 
minutes  longer,  being  very  careful  not  to  allow 
them  to  boil,  or  the  oyster  will  become  hard.  Just 
before  taking  from  the  fire,  a  large  teaspoonful  of 
lemon  juice  may  be  added  ;  but  any  addition  must 


loo  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

be  made  carefully,  lest  the  delicate  and  peculiar 
flavor  of  the  oyster  should  be  injured. 

Oysters  A  la  George  Trimble  Davidson. — 
Butter  the  size  of  two  eggs  melted  first  in  the  dish, 
then  pour  in  a  quart  of  oysters  and  as  much  of  the 
broth  as  desirable,  flavor  with  salt  and  pepper,  a 
teaspoonful  of  paprika,  and  a  dash  of  tabasco. 
Cut  up  celery  and  put  in  about  two  tablespoonfuls, 
squeeze  in  the  juice  of  half  a  lemon,  and  add  two 
tablespoons  of  sherry.  Cook  about  four  minutes, 
and  serve  on  hot  toast.  A  pint  of  rich  cream  added 
to  the  broth  of  the  oyster  makes  the  dish  richer, 
though  it  is  not  absolutely  necessary. 

Oysters  A  la  John  Chamberlin. — This  dainty 
dish,  invented  by  the  famous  viveur  of  Washing- 
ton, is  made  as  follows  : — 

Add  to  the  juice  of  one  dozen  large  Lynn  Haven 
Bay  oysters  two  heaping  tablespoonfuls  of  finely 
chopped  celery,  a  saltspoonful  of  salt,  and  two  of 
paprika.  Bring  slowly  to  a  boil,  then  simmer  five 
minutes.  Now  add  two  pats  of  butter  and  a  gill 
and  a  half  of  cream.  When  simmering,  add  two 
sherry-glassfuls  of  fine  Madeira,  stir  quickly,  and 
add  the  oysters.  Watch  these  carefully,  and  the 
moment  the  gills   begin    to   curl,  extinguish   the 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish.  lol 

light,  add  another  glass  of  Madeira,  stir  quickly, 
and  serve  at  once. 

Oysters  MaItre  d'Hotel.— Dry  the  oysters 
in  a  napkin.  Put  a  walnut  of  butter  into  the  dish, 
and  when  it  is  hot  add  the  oysters.  Saute  them  on 
each  side  and  season  with  pepper  and  salt;  squeeze 
a  little  lemon  over  them,  and  serve. 

Oysters  a  la  Newberg. — This  is  a  very  good 
receipt  from  Mrs.  Lemcke,  told  to  a  woman's  class 
in  cookery :  "  I'll  tell  you  all,  to  start  with,  that 
oysters  prepared  in  this  way  are  an  excellent  thing 
with  which  to  get  your  husbands  m  a  good  humor. 
I  have  here  twenty-five  large  oysters,  such  as  are 
used  for  frying.  I  will  now  place  them,  without 
their  liquor,  in  a  saucepan,  adding  one  tablespoon- 
ful  of  butter,  one  gill  of  white  wine,  one  even  tea- 
spoonful  of  salt,  and  one-half  of  pepper.  I  now 
place  them  on  the  stove  to  cook  until  the  oysters 
stiffen,  and  in  the  meanwhile  I  will  cut,  very  fine, 
one  gill  of  mushrooms  into  another  saucepan,  and 
also  one  truffle.  To  this  I  add  one-half  an  ounce 
of  butter  and  one-half  a  gill  of  mushroom  liquor. 
This  I  will  cook  for  five  minutes,  and  while  that's 
cooking  I'll  mix  the  yolks  of  four  eggs  with  one- 
half  pint  of  rich  cream."     By  the  time  this  was 


I02  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

accomplished  the  oysters  and  mushrooms  were 
ready  to  be  put  together,  and  the  eggs  and  cream 
were  mixed  with  them.  The  whole  was  allowed  to 
get  very  hot  without  boiling,  and  was  served  with 
pieces  of  puff  paste  cut  into  half-moons. 

Oyster  Rabbit. — Clean  and  remove  the  hard 
muscles  from  half  a  pint  of  oysters  ;  parboil  them 
in  the  chafing-dish  in  their  own  liquor  until  their 
edges  curl,  and  remove  to  a  hot  bowl.  Put  one 
tablespoonful  of  butter,  one-half  pound  of  cheese 
(broken  in  small  bits),  one  saltspoonful  each  of  salt 
and  mustard,  and  a  few  grains  of  Cayenne  into  the 
chafing-dish  ;  while  the  cheese  is  melting,  beat  two 
eggs  slightly,  adding  them  to  the  oyster  liquor  ; 
mix  this  gradually  with  the  melted  cheese  ;  add  the 
oysters  and  turn  at  once  over  hot  toast. 

Oysters  in  a  Loaf. — Drain  fifty  good,  fat  oys- 
ters. Put  them  over  the  fire  ;  watch  carefully  to  a 
boil.  Drain  ;  add  to  the  liquor  sufficient  milk  to 
make  one  pint.  Rub  together  two  tablespoonfuls 
butter  and  two  of  flour.  Add  milk  and  liquor. 
When  boiling  add  oysters,  the  yolks  of  two  eggs 
added  quickly,  a  tablespoonful  of  parsley,  and  a 
palatable  seasoning  of  salt  and  pepper.  Serve  hot 
in  a  boat  made  from  stale  bread  nicely  fried. 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish.  103 


.Oelricbs    \ 
5ed5t:)re6G 
pop  T^p' 


Stir  the    yolk 
and  white  of  six 


eggs  in  a  soup- 
plate.  Cut  up 
twelve  medium- 
si  z  e  d  oysters, 
moderately  fine, 
in  another  soup- 
plate.  Rub  the 
bottom  of  chafing-dish  with  anchovy  paste,  put 
in  a  good-sized  piece  of  butter,  and  proceed  to 
scramble  the  eggs.  Just  as  the  eggs  are  turning 
put  in  the  oysters  and  stir  well  until  cooked,  then 
serve  on  toast  lightly  spread  with  anchovy  paste. 
Three  eggs  and  six  oysters  is  about  the  right  pro- 
portion for  each  person. 


Anchovy. — Anchovy  paste  spread  instead  of 
butter  on  hot  toast  is  a  most  delicious  appetizer 
preceding  a  lunch.  Bottled  anchovies  in  oil  served 
with  olives,  or  olives  stuffed  with  anchovies,  are 
full  of  zest,  and  can  readily  be  purchased  in  orig- 
inal packages. 


Fish — Smelts. — For  the  chafing-dish  smelts  are 
particularly  well  adapted.  They  are  declared  to 
have  the  singular  perfume  of  violets  and  syringa  ! 


104  The  J^achetor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

Pull  the  gills  out,  and  the  inside  will  follow.  Wipe 
dry,  dredge  them  with  flour,  first  dipping  in  milk, 
and  fry  gently  in  butter. 

Be  tw  ee  n 
three   or    four 
slices  of  nicely 
toasted  and 
^  buttered  bread 
'^      ^  on  both  sides, 

spread  a  dozen  anchovies  chopped  fine.  Beat  up 
the  yolks  of  four  eggs  with  half  a  pint  of  cream 
and  thicken  over  a  fire.  Don't  let  this  come  to  a 
boil.  Pour  this  over  the  toast  after  it  is  arranged 
in  pyramid  form  on  a  hot  plate. 

Perches  aux  Fines  Herbes. — Scale  and  clean 
fresh  small  perch  and  lay  in  the  chafing-drsh. 
Pour  oil  over  them,  sprinkle  with  pepper,  salt 
parsley  and  sweet  herbs  minced  fine.  Mix  minced 
herbs  with  bread-crumbs  and  cover  the  fish.  Then 
fry,  and  serve  with  any  sauce. 

Salmon,  Kippered. — A  pound  of  salmon,  half 
pint  of  best  oil,  a  little  pepper.  Don't  begin  to 
fry  until  the  oil  is  boiling. 

Shad-roe. — Scald  a  pair  of  shad-roe  first.  Put 
a  pint  of  hot  water  into  the  chafing-dish,  a  gill  of 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish.  \6^ 

vinegar,  a  bit  of  mace,  and  a  bit  of  lemon  peel, 
three  peppercorns,  and  the  roe.  Boil  fifteen 
minutes.  Spread  with  butter,  the  juice  of  lemon, 
and  chopped  parsley. 

Terrapin  a  la  Maryland. — Plunge  two  cow- 
terrapin  into  boiling  water  and  boil  for  fifteen 
minutes.  When  cool  rub  off  the  skin  from  the 
legs,  and  take  the  shells  apart  carefully.  Cut 
away  the  meat,  take  the  gallbag  from  the  liver, 
removing  claws,  sandbag,  head,  etc.,  and  saving  the 
eggs.  The  next  day  cook  in  the  chafer  as  follows  : 
Rub  together  the  yolks  of  four  hard-boiled  eggs 
and  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of  butter  until  it  becomes 
a  paste.  Add  to  this  gradually,  while  stirring,  a 
half-pint  of  cream  and  half  a  gill  of  good  sherry. 
Pour  this  mixture  in  the  chafer  (a  half-pint  of  hot 
water  being  previously  placed  in  the  lower  dish), 
light  the  fire,  stir  while  warming,  and  when  hot 
add  the  terrapin.     Simmer  for  a  few  moments. 

Sardines  A  la  George  Trimble  Davidson. — 
Have  some  sardines  broiled  and  placed  on  individual 
pieces  of  toast,  and  then,  on  a  chafing-dish,  make 
a  thin  milk-rabbit.  Butter,  the  size  of  a  small  ^g%^ 
should  be  melted  first  in  the  dish,  then  the  fresh 
cheese  cut  up  fine  and  melted  with  the  butter  ;  a 


lo6  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

little  salt,  a  little  pepper,  and  a  dash  of  tabasco. 
Stir  the  melting  cheese  in  one  direction  only,  and 
keep  adding  a  little  cream,  just  enough  to  make  it 
the  consistency  of  molasses.  When  all  is  well 
melted  and  evenly  stirred,  pour  it  over  the  broiled 
sardines  and  serve  hot. 

Sardines  a  l'Indienne. — Put  a  pat  of  butter 
into  the  chafing-dish,  and  stir  in  the  yolks  of  four 
beaten  eggs,  salt  and  Cayenne  to  taste,  and  a  tea- 
spoonful  of  chutney ;  when  it  forms  a  smooth  paste 
mash  with  it  some  trimmed  sardines  from  which 
the  oil  has  been  wiped,  dip  in  ^gg  and  bread- 
crumbs, fry  in  hot  butter,  and  dish  up  on  strips  of 
thin  toast. 

Creamed  Shrimps. — Mix  in  the  handled  dish 
the  yolks  of  two  eggs,  with  a  teaspoonful  of  an- 
chovy sauce  and  a  gill  of  cream  ;  lay  in  some 
bottled  shrimps,  let  them  just  get  hot,  not  allowing 
the  eggs  to  curdle,  and  pour  over  strips  of  toast. 

Rissoles  of  Lobster. — Mince  up  the  meat  from 
a  boiled  lobster  very  fine  and  season  with  pepper, 
salt,  and  a  little  pounded  mace.  Add  two  ounces 
of  melted  butter  and  some  bread-crumbs  ;  roll  into 
balls,  dip  into  yoke  of  beaten  tgg^  put  more  crumbs 
over  them,  and  fry  to  a  brown  in  lard. 


The  Autocrat  ajid  the  Chafing-dish.  107 

Lobster  a  la  Newberg. — Extract  the  meat 
from  two  freshly  boiled  lobsters,  weighing  two 
pounds  each,  and  cut  it  into  small  pieces.  Put  two 
ounces  of  butter  in  a  pan  over  the  fire,  and  as  soon 
as  it  melts  put  in  six  fine-chopped  button  mush- 
rooms, which  must  cook  three  minutes  without 
browning.  Then  the  lobster  meat  must  be  added  ; 
also  one  even  teaspoonful  of  truffles  and  one-half 
pint  of  sherry.  Let  this  cook  three  minutes.  Mix 
one  and  one-half  cupfuls  of  cream  with  the  yolks 
of  four  eggs  and  mix  it  well  with  the  lobster,  allow- 
ing it  to  remain  a  few  minutes  over  the  fire  without 
boiling.  Lobster  Newberg  can  be  made  more  sim- 
ply by  leaving  out  the  mushrooms  and  truffles,  and 
many  people  prefer  it  that  way. 

Frying  Fish  A  la  Savarin. — Brillat  Savarin, 
in  \{\9~  Physiologie  du  Gotlt,  which  was,  according  to 
Balzac,  a  veritable  decalogue  of  gastronomers,  irref- 
ragable as  the  laws  of  Kepler,  wrote  :  "  The  beauty 
of  a  good  fry  is  in  carbonizing  or  browning  the 
surface  by  sudden  immersion — the  process  known  as 
the  'surprise.'  It  forms  a  sort  of  vault  to  enclose 
all  that  is  valuable,  prevents  the  fat  from  reaching 
ic,  and  concentrates  the  juices  so  as  best  to  develop 
the  alimentary  qualities.  Don't  forget  when  you 
have  any  of  those  trout  weighing  scarcely  more  than 


IbS  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

quarter  of  a  pound,  and  fetched  from  streams  that 
murmur  far  from  the  capital — don't  forget,  I  say,  to 
fry  them  in  the  very  finest  olive- oil  you  have.  This 
simple  dish,  properly  served  up  with  slices  of  lemon, 
is  worthy  of  a  cardinal.  In  exactly  the  same  way 
you  should  treat  smelts,  of  which  adepts  think  so 
much.  The  smelt  is,  among  the  fish,  what  the 
fig-pecker  is  amongst  the  birds  :  the  same  in  size, 
the  same  in  flavor,  the  same  in  excellence." 

Turtle  Steak  A  la  Henry  Guy  Carleton. — 
After  melting  two  ounces  of  butter  in  the  chafing- 
dish  add  a  tablespoonful  of  mushroom  ketchup,  two 
tablespoonfuls  of  currant  jelly,  a  gill  of  port  wine,  a 
dash  of  Cayenne,  and  a  little  salt.  In  this  simmer 
the  steak  till  tender  ;  finally  add  the  juice  of  half 
a  lime,  and  serve  hot. 

Scallops. — Scald  the  scallops,  then  dry  them  in 
a  napkin,  and  fry  in  the  chafing-dish  with  a  couple 
of  walnuts  of  butter.  To  stew  :  Parboil  for  fifteen 
minutes,  then  put  them  in  the  dish  with  a  pint  of 
boiled  milk,  a  walnut  of  butter,  and  season  to  taste. 
Simmer  for  eight  or  ten  minutes. 

Thackeray's  Bouillabaisse. — Put  a  gill  of 
olive-oil  into  the  chafing-dish,  a  minced  clove  of 


The  Au  to  era  t  and  the  Ch  afing-dis  h.  1 09 

garlic,  a  tablespoonful  of  chopped  onion,  two 
cloves,  six  peppercorns,  and,  when  browned,  put  in  a 
pound  of  canned  salmon  with  its  liquid.  Now  add 
a  little  salt,  piece  of  bay-leaf,  two  or  three  sHces  of 
lemon,  a  pint  of  tomato  pulp,  a  pinch  of  curry- 
powder  or  saffron,  a  gill  of  Rhine  wine,  with  water 
enough  to  cover  the  fish.  Simmer  for  twenty  min- 
utes. Line  a  deep  dish  with  toast,  remove  from 
the  pan  all  seasoning  in  sight,  and  then  pour  the 
contents  of  the  pan  over  the  toast.  This  dish  was 
made  famous  by  Thackeray. 

Eggs — Omelet  A  la  Celestine. — Break  four 
eggs  in  a  bowl,  beating  them  only  enough  to  mix 
the  whites  and  yolks  thoroughly.  Add  a  table- 
spoonful  of  powdered  sugar  and  a  very  little  butter. 
Put  a  teaspoonful  of  butter  in  the  omelet  pan.  As 
soon  as  hot  turn  in  the  eggs,  shake  the  pan  so  the 
eggs  do  not  set  and  brown  until  the  raw  ^g%  is  all 
cooked,  lifting  the  cooked  part  every  few  seconds 
to  allow  the  raw  ^^'g  to  run  upon  the  hot  pan.  As 
soon  as  the  omelet  is  set  add  three  tablespoonfuls  of 
strawberry  jam  ;  fold  over  the  omelet,  turn  onto  a 
platter,  dust  with  powdered  sugar,  and  serve  at  once. 

Scrambled  Eggs  for  Four. — One  pint  of  cream, 
orve  ounce  of  butter,  ten  eggs.     Beat  well  together 


tlO  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

in  the  dish  before  putting  over  the  fire.  Season  to 
suit  with  a  little  red  pepper.  Do  not  cease  thor- 
oughly stirring  until  the  whole  is  scrambled,  then 
serve  on  toast. 

To  Poach  Eggs.— Have  a  wide  stewpan  half 
filled  with  perfectly  clean  boiling  water,  in  which 
a  teaspoonful  of  salt  or  vinegar  has  been  thrown  ; 
break  each  ^gg  into  a  small  cup  and  slide  it  gently 
into  the  water  ;  in  about  three  minutes  the  whites 
will  be  firm  ;  then  lift  them  from  the  water  in  a 
wire  poaching-spoon,  which  will  drain  off  the  water. 
Serve  the  eggs  on  bread  toasted  and  buttered. 

To  Fry  Eggs. — Break  the  eggs  carefully  into 
cups,  as  for  poaching.  Have  the  frying-pan  ready 
with  plenty  of  boiling  butter  or  oil  ;  slide  the  eggs 
gently  in,  and  with  a  spoon  baste  a  little  of  the 
butter  over  them,  for  they  must  not  be  turned.  As 
soon  as  the  yolk  appears  white,  showing  the  deep 
color  through,  and  the  white  is  firm  though  trans- 
parent, which  will  usually  be  in  two  minutes,  lift 
them  out  with  a  perforated  slice,  that  they  may  be 
drained. 

Eggs  a  la  Meyerbeer. — Cut  one  mutton  kidney 
in  half  and  broil  or  stew  it.    Butter  a  dish  and  break 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish.  1 1 1 

into  it  two  eggs,  which  cook  for  two  minutes;  then 
add  the  kidney  to  the  eggs,  and  serve  with  Peri- 
gueux  sauce. 

Mrs.  Rorer's  Omelette. — Break  four  eggs  into 
a  bowl ;  give  them  twelve  good,  vigorous  beats  ; 
add  four  tablespoonfuls  water,  tablespoonful  finely- 
chopped  parsley,  and  a  bit  of  butter  size  of  a  wal- 
nut. Put  a  tablespoonful  of  butter  in  a  saucepan  ; 
when  melted  turn  in  the  eggs  ;  shake,  dust  with  salt 
and  pepper  ;  drain  so  that  the  soft  part  will  go  un- 
derneath ;  fold  and  roll,  and  turn  on  to  a  heated  dish. 

Scramble  eggs  with 
cream  and  grated 
American  cheese, 
chopped  green  pep- 
pers, tomato  ketchup, 
paprika,  and  serve  en 
casserole  (individual  stewpans),  and  just  at  serv- 
ing cover  with  Parmesan  cheese. 

Eggs  with  Macaroni. — Heat  a  gill  of  milk  in 
the  chafing-dish  ;  add  two  walnuts  of  butter ;  two 
tablespoons  of  canned  mushrooms,  cut  fine  ;  a 
cupful  of  cold,  boiled  macaroni  ;  then  four  eggs 
which  have  been  well  mixed.  Stir  over  boiling 
)vater  for  tpi>  minutes^  and  season  to  suit. 


112  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

Plain  Omelette. — For  a  small  one  take  four 
eggs  and  beat  them  up  briskly  ;  add  a  tablespoon 
of  milk,  and  beat  that  up  with  the  eggs,  and  pour  into 
the  dish  directly  over  the  fire.  As  soon  as  it  sets, 
lift  off  the  dish,  slip  a  knife  under  it  half-way,  then 
slant  the  pan  and  fold  over.  Hold  your  platter 
against  the  dish  and  turn  into  it.  Don't  mix  salt 
with  it ;  that  will  make  it  flabby  ;  reserve  that  for 
the  table. 

Omelette  au  Rhum. — After  preparing  as  above, 
dust  sugar  over  it,  and  then  singe  the  sugar  in 
stripes  with  a  red-hot  iron.  Pour  a  wineglass  of 
warm  Jamaica  rum  over  it,  which  set  fire  to.  Then 
with  a  spoon  dash  the  rum  over  the  omelette,  and 
serve. 

Omelette  Souffl^. — In  preparing  an  omelette, 
beat  the  whites  of  four  eggs  separately  from  the 
yolks  of  two,  then  put  together ;  add  a  tablespoon- 
f ul  of  sugar  and  a  few  drops  of  vanilla ;  then  bake 
ten  minutes  or  so. 

Omelette  with  Chestnuts.  —  All  sorts  of 
things  may  be  introduced  into  a  plain  omelette — 
jelly,  mushrooms,  etc.  A  particularly  tasty  ome- 
lette, that  w^s  suggested  to  me  by  "  Her,"  iya§ 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish.  113 

stuffed  with   boiled  (then  mashed)  French  chest- 
nuts. 

The  CuRiS's  Omelette  a  la  Savarin. — Hash  up 
together  the  roes  of  two  carp,  carefully  bleached, 
a  piece  of  fresh  tunny,  and  a  little  minced  shallot. 
When  well  mixed  throw  the  whole  into  a  saucepan 
with  a  lump  of  the  best  butter,  and  whip  it  up  till 
the  butter  is  melted.  Then  in  an  oval  dish  mix 
separately  a  lump  of  butter  with  parsley  and  chives, 
and  squeezing  over  it  the  juice  of  a  lemon,  place  it 
over  hot  embers  in  readiness.  Next,  complete  the 
omelette  by  beating  up  twelve  eggs,  pouring  in  the 
roes  and  tunny,  stirring  till  all  is  well  mixed  ;  then, 
when  properly  finished,  and  of  the  proper  form  and 
consistence,  spread  it  out  skilfully  on  the  oval  dish, 
and  serve  up  to  be  eaten  at  once.  This  dish  should 
be  reserved  for  breakfasts  of  refinement,  for  con- 
noisseurs in  gastronomic  art — those  who  understand 
eating  with  judgment  ;  but,  especially,  let  it  be 
washed  down  with  some  good  old  wine,  and  you 
will  see  wonders. 

Eggs  in  Marinade.— Put  four  dessertspoonfuls 
of  water  in  the  stewpan,  a  tablespoon  of  vinegar, 
and  two  of  veal  gravy  with  seasoning  of  pepper 
and  salt.     Beat  well  yolks  of  two  eggs  and  stir  in 


114  The  Bachelor  atid  the  Chafing-dish. 

gradually ;  then  light  your  lamp  and  heat  just 
until  it  thickens — not  boiling.  Pour  this  sauce 
over  poached  eggs. 

Eggs  A  la  Powerscourt. — Five  eggs,  a  few 
anchovies  or  sardines,  hot  toasted  bread,  anchovy 
paste,  Cayenne.  Poach  the  eggs  and  put  them 
on  round  pieces  of  toast,  size  of  the  ^gg,  nicely  but- 
tered, first  covering  the  toast  with  anchovy  paste  and 
a  little  Cayenne  ;  cut  some  sardines  or  anchovies 
into  slips,  and  lay  them  transversely  across  the  eggs. 

Eggs  with  Ham. — Cut  ham  thin  and  keep  in 
hot  water  for  half  an  hour  ;  wipe  the  slices  dry,  dip 
into  beaten  eggs,  and  then  bread-crumbs.  Then 
fry  lightly  in  oil  and  cover  with  poached  eggs. 

Stewed  Codfish. — This  is  a  good  breakfast  or 
luncheon  dish.  Picked  cod  comes  prepared.  Put 
half  a  pound  of  it  in  the  stewpan,  with  a  table- 
spoonful  of  butter,  worked  into  the  same  of  flour, 
and  enough  milk  to  moisten  it.  Stew  gently  for 
ten  minutes,  add  pepper,  and  serve  hot,  covering 
with  sliced  hard-boiled  eggs. 

Chestnuts  and  Oysters. — This  is  an  elaborate 
dish,  but  worth  the  while  for  an  occasion.  As 
naany  o;ysters  a?  chestnuts,  jrolks  of  fpijr  eggs^  half 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish.  115 

a  grated  nutmeg,  peel  of  half  a  lemon,  two  sprigs 
of  parsley,  a  spoonful  of  the  juice  of  spinach,  six 
spoonfuls  of  milk  or  cream,  flour,  bread-crumbs, 
half  a  pint  of  white  wine,  half  a  blade  of  mace, 
three  ounces  of  butter.  Now  to  proceed  :  Make  a 
thick  batter  with  the  yolk  of  two  eggs,  the  nut- 
meg, the  lemon  peel  minced  fine,  the  spinach 
juice,  a  little  flour,  and  two  spoonfuls  of  the  milk. 
Dip  the  oysters  one  by  one  into  this  batter,  roll  in 
bread-crumbs,  and  fry  with  butter  quickly  to  a 
bright  brown,  and  set  aside  to  keep  hot.  Take 
the  chestnuts  (shelled  and  skinned)  and  fry  in  bat- 
ter. Pour  fat  out  of  the  pan,  dredge  some  flour 
in,  rub  a  piece  of  butter  over  it  with  a  spoon,  put 
in  the  liquor  from  the  oysters,  mace,  the  chestnuts, 
and  half  a  pint  of  white  wine.  Let  them  boil  ; 
thicken  the  liquor  with  yolks  of  two  eggs  beaten 
up  with  four  spoonfuls  of  cream,  and  when  it  is 
thick  pour  it  over  the  oysters  and  serve. 

If  the  amateur  cook  accomplishes  this  dish  very 
successfully,  he  will  satisfy  himself  as  well  as  his 
guests. 

Savarin's  Fondue. — This  dish  is  of  Swiss  ori- 
gin. It  is  a  healthy,  savory,  and  appetizing  dish, 
quickly  dressed,  and  always  convenient  to  place 
before  unexpected  guest§.    Take  first  as  many  eggs 


Ii6  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chajiftg-dish. 

as  there  are  guests,  and  then  about  a  third  as  much 
by  weight  of  the  best  of  Gruyeres  cheese  and  the 
half  of  that  of  butter.  Break  and  beat  up  all  the 
eggs  well  in  a  saucepan  ;  then  add  the  butter  and 
cheese,  grated  or  cut  in  small  pieces ;  place  the 
saucepan  on  the  fire,  and  stir  with  a  wooden  spoon 
till  it  is  of  a  thick  and  soft  consistence  ;  put  in  salt 
according  to  the  age  of  the  cheese,  and  a  strong 
dose  of  pepper,  that  being  a  special  attribute  of 
this  ancient  dish.  Finally,  let  it  be  brought  to 
table  on  a  hot  dish,  and  if  some  of  your  best  wine 
is  brought  and  the  bottle  passes  briskly,  you  will 
see  wonders ! 

The  Queen's  Toasted  Cheese. — This  is  the 
recipe  from  the  Royal  Lodge  at  Windsor  :  Grate 
half  a  pound  of  cheese  very  fine  and  add  three 
tablespoons  of  ale  and  a  small  glass  of  champagne. 
Mix  well  in  a  silver  dish  over  a  lamp  for  ten  min- 
utes, then  serve  in  the  dish  with  toast. 

Cheese  Balls. — To  one  cup  of  grated  cheese 
add  a  half-cup  of  grated  bread-crumbs,  one  tgg 
well  beaten,  and  five  drops  of  V/orcestershire 
sauce.  Mix  thoroughly  and  roll  the  paste  into 
small  balls  with  the  hands.  Place  them  in  a  wire 
J)aske|:  and  fry  in  very  hot  .lar4. 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish.  wj 

Potatoes  Boiled  par  Excellence.  —  Boil 
medium,  smooth  potatoes  in  brine.  If  you  have 
no  brine  handy  make  it  with  salt  and  water. 
Boil  until  tender,  serve  with  the  jackets,  and,  if 
you  are  hungry,  will  be  found  delicious  with  butter. 

Fry  Ordinaire. — Boil,  then  pare  the  potatoes 
required,  and  slice  about  one-quarter  of  an  inch 
thick.  Fry  in  boiling  butter  until  light  brown. 
Drain  and  serve  on  napkin,  sprinkled  with  salt. 

Another. — Fry  raw  in  plenty  of  lard.  Do  not 
put  the  potatoes  into  the  pan  until  the  lard  is 
at  a  boiling  point. 

"  Mother's"  Stewed  Potatoes. — Cut  potatoes 
into  dice  that  have  been  previously  boiled.  Put  in 
stewpan  with  two  walnuts  of  butter,  season  with 
pepper  and  salt,  and  add  enough  cream  to  reach 
them.  Stew  quickly  and  keep  well  turned  mean- 
while. 

Asparagus. — Select  good  "  Oyster  Bay  "  plant, 
and,  after  scraping  well,  boil  fifteen  minutes,  adding 
a  teaspoon  of  salt  to  the  water.  When  cold,  serve 
with  a  dish  of  melted  butter  or  olive-oil  to  which 
has  been  added  a  little  paprika  ;  or,  dip  into  epi- 
piirean  sapce, 


1 1 8  The  Bach  el  or  ait  d  the  Ch  afing-dish . 

Canned  Vegetables.  —  Corn,  tomatoes,  peas, 
beans,  etc.,  as  they  are  now  prepared,  are  especially 
adapted  to  the  chafing-dish  for  luncheon  service, 
as  well  as  all  the  canned  soups.  The  latter  may  have 
at  least  one-third  their  bulk  added  to  by  water  or 
milk,  if  desired,  and  with  a  little  seasoning,  such  as 
Worcestershire  or  mushroom  sauce,  are  very  tasty. 
The  vegetables  are  all  ready  for  simply  heating 
through,  and  can  be  nicely  seasoned  with  butter, 
pepper,  and  salt.  In  fact,  there  is  hardly  anything 
now  that  cannot  be  gotten  preserved  in  some  way, 
and  thus  easily  adapted  for  the  chafing-dish. 

Soups. — As  all  soups  that  could  possibly  be  de- 
sired either  by  the  man  or  woman  bachelor  are 
obtainable  ready  for  heating  in  the  can,  there  is 
hardly  any  need  to  give  directions  for  the  making 
of  any  soup.  All  canned  soups  are  improved  by 
emptying  into  the  dish  and  adding  a  seasoning  as 
desired.     Let  the  soup  just  come  to  a  boil. 

Soup  according  to  Savarin. — "To  have  good 
soup  the  water  must  be  heated  gently  in  order  to 
draw  out  the  albumen  before  it  is  coagulated,  and 
the  boiling  must  be  almost  imperceptible  in  order 
to  mix  thoroughly  and  gradually  the  soluble  parts 
which   the  meat  successively  yields.     Sometimes 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafing-dish. 


119 


Cub 


vegetables  or  roots  are  added  to  the  plain  soup  to 
improve  the  flavor,  and  macaroni  or  bread  to  make 
it  more  nourishing  ;  it  is  then  a  potage,  or  vege- 
table soup,  or  broth — a  wholesome,  light,  and  nu- 
tritious food,  suitable  for  all  ;  not  only  satisfying, 
but  giving  tone  to  the  digestive  organs.  To  make 
good  soup,  the  pot  must  only  simmer — *  smile,'  as 
the  phrase  is." 

A    silver   or 
D €5 r  ^^.%  metal  teapot 

draws   out  the 
strength     and 

*  ^:£^^^^^^^"' ^^//l  ^^^    ^^'^    more 

readily  than 
one  of  earthen- 
ware, and  one 
of  a  globular 
form  is  most  effectual.  Boiling  water  should  first 
be  poured  into  it  to  heat  the  metal  before  the  tea- 
making  is  commenced,  that  less  heat  may  be  ab- 
stracted from  the  infusion,  and  thus  the  action  be 
more  powerful  ;  then  into  the  heated  vessel  put  the 
quantity  of  tea  required,  and  half  fill  with  boihng 
water.  If  the  tea  be  of  very  fine  quality,  you  may 
let  it  stand  ten  minutes  before  filling  up  ;  if  of 
coarser  kind,  five  minutes  is  long  enough,  or  you 


120  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

will  draw  more  of  the  bitterness  than  the  fragrance 
of  the  tea.  Never  drain  all  the  infusion  from  the 
teapot  before  you  refill  it ;  leave  at  least  one  cup, 
and  when  the  strength  of  the  leaves  is  exhausted, 
do  not  add  more  tea  to  them,  but  turn  them  out 
and  commence  afresh,  or  the  bitterness  of  the  old 
leaves  will  destroy  the  flavor  of  the  tea. 

Spaghetti. — Put  the  ends  into  boiling  water 
for  a  moment.  This  will  soften  them,  so  you  can 
coil  the  spaghetti  into  the  water  without  break- 
ing. Boil  for  fifteen  minutes,  then  drain  in  a 
colander  and  pour  cold  water  over  it.  Now  put  in 
a  hot  dish  and  heat  through,  first  pouring  over  it 
a  tomato  sauce,  good  and  hot,  with  paprika. 

Violet  Luncheon. — A  luncheon  for  six  people 
that  I  had  the  pleasure  of  attending  recently  was 
an  exceedingly  dainty  affair.  The  table  was  luxu- 
riantly decorated  with  violets  ;  the  china  service 
was  all,  more  or  less,  hand-painted,  with  the  violet 
as  the  chief  color.     The  menu  was  as  follows  : 

Bier  re  de  Malaga 

Toast  with  anchovy  paste 

Oysters  k  la  John  Chamberlin 

Eggs  en  casserole 

Quail,  chafing-dish  style 

Cr^me  Yvette  sorbet  a  la  Waldorf 


The  Autocrat  and  the  Chafifig-dish.  I'll 

Three  silver  chafing-dishes  stood  ready  on  the 
side-table,  one  being  placed  in  front  of  the  host 
for  each  course.  The  servant  passed  him  the  ma- 
terials for  making  each  dish  just  as  they  were 
wanted,  everything  being  temptingly  placed  on 
the  side-table  close  at  hand.  The  first  was  simply 
an  imported  appetizer.  Directions  for  the  three 
following  courses  can  be  found  by  consulting  the 
index.  The  quail  was  cooked  as  the  recipe  is  given 
for  spring  chicken.  The  last,  a  violet  sorbet,  espe- 
cially delighted  the  women ;  the  recipe  I  obtained 
from  the  Hotel  Waldorf,  as  follows  :  One  gallon 
orange  and  lemon  ice,  one-half  bottle  Creme  Yvette, 
and  two  teaspoonfuls  of  vegetable  violet  color. 

Creamed  Oysters  a  la  Eugene  McCarthy. 
— Here  is  a  recipe  for  two  :  One  pint  oysters,  one 
cup  cream,  one-half  cup  sherry,  two  tablespoonfuls 
Worcestershire,  two  drops  tabasco,  two  walnuts  of 
butter,  small  bunch  celery  cut  fine,  salt  to  suit. 
Stew  until  the  gills  of  the  oysters  frill. 


L'ENVOI. 

My  dear  Cook  Man  : 

You're  great  on  la  eat;  but  don't  forget  la 
drink.  Par  example,  the  little  trick  of  turning 
new  wine  into  old — no  miracle— a  teaspoonful  of 
very  hot  water  in  the  table  d'hote  red  wine  of 
California,  and  at  once  you  have  a  fair  St. 
Emilion  or  St.  Estephe  or  Macon  of  five  years 
old.  Then  the  raw  young  whiskey,  if  it  is  good, 
treated  with  two  lumps  of  sugar  to  the  quart  and 
left  open  a  few  hours,  takes  on  age  and  mellow- 
ness with  astonishing  rapidity.  Urge  Christians 
not  to  drink  foreign  champagnes  that  don't  come 
out  of  a  king's  or  a  Rothschild's  cellar.  San 
Franciscan  champagne,  if  tabulated  ten  dollars  a 
bottle,  would  be  in  demand  the  world  over.  Cool 
it,  but  don't  ice  it.  Vat'en  au  diable,  prie. 
Ton  ami. 

Saint  Maur. 

* 
*  * 

I  have  loved  that  alliterative  complement,  Sala 
and  Savarin,  not  because  {eiitre  nous)  I  think  life's 
enjoyment  is  mainly  what  the  little  pigs  may  be 


LEnvoi.  123 

thinking  of,  sketched  in  my  first  chapter,  but 
because  in  all  that  they  have  written  (not  the  pigs, 
but  S.  and  S.)  there  has  been  created  an  atmos- 
phere of  the  most  genial  bonhomie.  Poor  Sala  died 
the  month  this  was  going  to  press,  and  his  last 
parting  gift  to  the  library  shelf  was  a  book  on 
cooking,  the  result  of  his  contemplation  of  years. 
But  he  alludes  to  the  fascination  the  kitchen  had 
for  him,  in  both  his  bachelorhood  and  married  state, 
in  his  "  Life  and  Adventures." 

He  begins  by  saying :  "■  I  should  be  false  to  the 
scheme  which  I  laid  down  for  myself  many  years 
ago,  when  I  first  thought  of  writing  my  life  at  all, 
were  I  not  to  say  something  about  the  great  change 
that  came  over  me  when  I  had  to  work  for  some- 
body else  besides  myself  ;  and  when  my  toil  was 
requited  by  the  devotedness  and  love  of  a  young 
and  intelligent  partner.  A  bachelor  must  be,  to  a 
certain  extent,  selfish  ;  he  cannot  help  it ;  he  thinks 
of  himself  in  some  shape  or  another  from  morning 
till  night  ;  and  selfishness  begets  self-indulgence 
and  hard-heartedness.  It  is  not  so  with  a  wid- 
ower ;  he  has  enjoyed  the  bliss  of  wedded  life.  Is 
there  a  nobler  passage  in  Johnson's  letter  to  Ches- 
terfield than  that  in  which  he  says,  'The  notice 
you  have  been  pleased  to  take  of  my  labours,  had 
it  been  early,  had  been  kind ;  but  it  has  been  de- 


124  I'J^^  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

layed  till  I  am  indifterent  and  cannot  enjoy  it,  //// 
/  am  solitary  and  cannot  impart  it^  till  I  am  known 
and  do  not  want  it '  ?  To  my  mind  it  is  impossible 
to  be  really  happy  unless  you  can  impart  at  least 
one  moiety  of  your  happiness  to  others.  Never 
mind  what  the  moiety  is — a  ticket  for  the  opera, 
a  bunch  a  flowers,  a  new  garment,  a  dinner  at 
Greenwich,  a  drive  in  the  park — it  will  not  be 
thoroughly  enjoyed  unless  you  can  share  it  with 
somebody  you  love.  It  was  my  great  good  for- 
tune to  espouse  a  pious,  charitable,  and  compas- 
sionate young  woman  ;  and  she  did  her  best,  during 
a  union  of  five  and  twenty  years,  to  weed  out  of  me 
my  besetting  sin  of  selfishness,  and  to  soften  and 
dulcify  a  temper  naturally  violent  and  unreasoning. 
.  .  .  During  the  dark  days  of  the  long  night- 
mare of  Bohemianism  I  did  not  forget  how  to 
cook,  but  my  culinary  faculty  was  in  a  state 
of  suspended  animation.  After  my  marriage  the 
cunning  of  the  archimogeiros  came  back  unbidden 
to  me,  and  it  was  one  of  the  earliest  and  most  de- 
lightful of  my  experiences  as  a  Benedict  teaching 
Beatrice  how  to  cook.  I  bought  a  very  nice  little 
batterie  de  cuisine  made  of  brown  Wedgwood  ware  ; 
and  with  the  aid  of  a  spirit  lamp  and  some  char- 
coal embers  we  managed  to  get  up  the  most  dainty 
little  repasts  imaginable.     My  wife's  capacity  for 


V  Envoi,  125 

cooking  developed  with  surprising  rapidity.  She 
became  in  years,  as  she  grew,  a  veritable  cordon 
bleu  ;  and  between  1875  and  1885,  when  we  had  a 
roomy  old  house  in  Mecklenburg  Square,  and  I 
was  prosperous,  and  could  afford  to  be  hospitable, 
we  concocted  a  number  of  lunches  and  dinners 
which  won  the  admiration  of  the  most  distin- 
guished gourmets  in  London.  The  manner  of  our 
procedure  was  as  follows  :  I  settled  the  menu.  If 
there  was  any  made  dish  or  any  sauces  with  which 
she  was  unacquainted  she  asked  me  for  informa- 
tion and  I  gave  it  to  her.  Then  she  took  three 
days  to  think  out  the  dinner.  Afterwards  she 
would  repair  to  her  laboratory,  which  was  a  little 
room  overlooking  the  garden,  and  which  we  had 
fitted  up  with  shelves,  on  which  she  arranged  all 
her  condiments,  her  miniature  stewpans  and  brais- 
ing-pans,  and  saucepans,  and  so  forth.  The  place 
came  to  look  at  last  like  that  gastronomic  library 
which  forms  the  frontispiece  to  one  of  the  volumes 
of  Reyniere's  '  Almanach  des  Gourmands,'  in 
which  the  articles  on  the  shelves  are  not  books,  but 
hams,  capons, /^/^'i-  de  foie  gras,  pots  of  conserves, 
bottles  of  oil  and  vinegar,  and  other  creature  com- 
forts. In  that  laboratory,  standing  before  a  broad 
kitchen  table,  and  aided  by  one  of  the  neatest- 
handed  parlourmaids  I  ever  knew,  the  artistic  por- 


126  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

tion  of  the  dinner  used  to  be  accomplished  ;  the 
ingredients  for  the  made  dishes  were  mixed  ;  there 
was  white  stock  and  there  was  brown  stock  sim- 
mering over  the  charcoal  ;  the  sauces  were  all 
made,  labelled  and  placed  in  different  casseroles  in 
a  bain  marie  pan  of  boiling  water  ;  and  all  Mrs. 
Cook  in  the  regions  below  had  to  do  was  to  make 
the  soup,  dress  the  fish  and  vegetables,  and  roast 
the  joints  and  game.  We  had  a  worthy  soul  at 
;^3o  per  annum  who  stayed  with  us  several  years  ; 
and  when  I  went  to  Australia  in  1885  she  was  fit 
to  be  cook  at  a  London  club.  She  used  to  beg 
and  pray  to  be  taught  to  make  sauces  and  entries ^ 
and  when  my  wife  had  any  leisure  she  used  to  in- 
struct her;  but  on  the  occasion  of  an  exceptionally 
recherchd  banquet,  she  herself,  and  she  only,  wa§ 
la  sauci^re.'* 

*  * 

Concerning  the  famous  cooks  of  this  century 
(and  1  do  not  know  to  whom  I  owe  this  uncredited 
scrap  from  my  note-book)  : 

"  Each  has  left  a  record  of  his  accomplishments 
in  the  form  of  a  treatise  on  the  culinary  art.  Of 
these,  Beauvilliers  in  his  *  L'Art  du  Cuisinier,' 
Careme  in  his  '  Maitre  d'Hotel  Fran9aise  ;'  Ude, 
*  The  French  Cook  ;  '  Soyer  in  *  The  Gastronomic 
Regenerator,'  Francatelli  in  his  *  Modern   Cook,* 


LEnvoi.  127 

and  Gouffe  in  his  *  Le  Livre  de  Cuisine/  have  car- 
ried to  the  utmost  limit  all  that  is  possible  in  the 
science  of  cookery.  Beauvilliers  was  renowned  for 
his  entrees  and  roasts.  In  the  absolute  perfection 
of  these  he  in  his  time  stood  alone  as  the  master 
par  excellence.  His  book,  even  at  this  day,  offers 
an  example  of  what  a  treatise  on  cookery  should  be; 
moreover,  it  reveals  the  position  of  the  culinary  art 
at  the  fall  of  the  First  Empire.  Careme  is  probably 
that  cook  whose  reputation  surpasses  that  of  all  his 
contemporaries  and  successors.  Careme  excelled 
in  entremets  and  sauces.  It  was  said  of  him  that  if 
it  were  wished  to  eat  of  a  grandfather  or  an  ele- 
phant, he  was  the  one  to  prepare  the  sauce  to  dis- 
guise the  flavor  of  either.  He  died  before  he  had 
completed  that  part  of  his  work  relating  to  sauces 
and  entrees.  Careme  as  a  writer  on  the  culinary 
art  indulged  in  romantic  elaboration.  This  is  at- 
tributed to  the  influence  of  the  time — the  reign  of 
Louis  XVIII,  At  that  period  eating  and  drinking 
were  ostentatious  and  vulgar.  The  King,  whose 
dinner  was  always  one  of  forty  courses,  was  respon- 
sible for  this,  and  Careme  yielded  to  the  fashion  of 
the  day,  probably,  however,  through  natural  incli- 
nation as  much  as  through  necessity.  He  devel- 
oped a  mania  for  decoration,  in  which  he  employed 
stearine  with  a  lavish  hand.    Under  this  decorative 


128  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

influence  he  revealed  the  skill  of  a  sculptor,  color- 
ist,  and  draughtsman,  three  accomplishments  that 
he  considered  indispensable  in  a  cook.  Ude  was 
the  kitchen  director  of  the  famous  Crockfords  of 
London.  He  was  a  good  cook  and  a  bombastic 
author.  His  famous  axiom  was  that  it  was  easier 
to  compose  an  oratorio  or  an  opera  than  to  create 
a  new  entree,  and  that  a  cook  was  a  greater  artist 
than  a  Royal  Academician  or  a  professor  of  music. 
Soyer  was  also  an  extravagant  and  exaggerated 
writer  on  culinary  topics.  Apart  from  his  Services 
to  the  English  troops  during  the  Crimean  war,  he  is 
mainly  remembered  by  his  hundred-guinea  dish,  to 
produce  which  a  hundred  turkeys  had  to  be  killed, 
of  which  each  supplied  only  the  two  dark-meat 
lumps  on  each  side  of  the  rump,  called  by  the 
French  le  sot  Vy  laisse.  Francatelli's  '  Modern 
Cook '  has  become  a  classic  through  the  ease  with 
which  his  recipes  are  susceptible  of  practical  appli- 
cation. He  was  Queen  Victoria's  chef  and  the 
innovator  in  reducing  the  number  of  dishes  served 
at  dinners  of  the  time.  Gouffe  was  a  culinary 
artist  of  the  first  class.  His  book  is  a  standard 
grammar  of  the  French  school  of  cookery,  and  no 
work  treating  of  superior  domestic  and  higher 
cookery  has  surpassed  it  in  practical  exactness  and 
painstaking  minuteness." 


V  Envoi.  129 

"  Dixie's  dishes  are  quoted,  or  rather  misquoted, 
so  often  that  I  am  emboldened  to  take  up  my  pen 
in  defence  of  my  country,"  said  a  Southern  woman 
to  a  writer  in  the  Sun. 

"  '  Hog  and  hominy '  have  been  declared  our 
staff  of  life  ever  since  Mason  and  Dixon  marked 
their  boundary  line  between  the  two  sections, 
whereas  hog  and  hominy  only  play  their  part  in 
special  seasons,  known  in  Dixie  as  *  hog-killing 
time.' 

"  How  the  collection  of  that  savory  season  lin- 
gers in  memory  !  The  yards  and  yards  of  delicious 
sausages,  the  backbones  and  spare  ribs,  the  hog's- 
head  cheese  and  brains,  the  tenderloins  and  pigs' 
feet,  and  the  saucy-looking  little  roast  pigs  with 
red  apples  in  their  mouths.  Then  the  old  smoke- 
houses, hung  around  with  sugar-cured  hams, 
which,  baked  brown,  garnished  with  cloves,  and 
served  with  champagne  sauce,  were  always  vis-a- 
vis with  the  roast  turkey  or  canvas-back  ducks  at  a 
dinner  of  any  importance. 

"And  our  big,  yellow,  sugar  'yams,'  how  they 
are  outraged  by  being  spoken  of  as  *  boiled  sweet 
potatoes ' !  Who  ever  heard  of  a  Southerner  eating 
boiled  sweet  potatoes  ?  He  would  just  as  soon 
think  of  eating  a  boiled  owl.  They  are  baked,  or 
roasted  in  their  jackets,  from  which  they  easily 
9 


130  The  Bachelor  a7td  the  Chafing-dish. 

slip,  when  properly  cooked,  and  are  covered  with  a 
delicious  saccharine  coating.  The  only  time  they 
are  boiled  is  when  they  are  to  be  converted  into 
croquettes  or  candied.  The  latter  method  is  in  this 
style  : 

**  Parboil  the  potatoes,  cut  them  lengthwise,  lay 
in  baking  dish,  sprinkle  thickly  with  brown  sugar 
and  powdered  cinnamon,  and  cover  liberally  with 
lumps  of  butter.  Pour  over  water  enough  to 
moisten  the  sugar,  and  bake  in  an  oven,  basting 
frequently  with  the  rich  sauce  that  will  soon  form. 

"  *■  Sweet  potato  pone '  is  another  specifically 
Southern  dish,  used  as  a  dessert.  The  potatoes 
are  peeled  raw  and  grated  on  a  coarse  grater. 
Five  or  six  potatoes  will  make  a  good-sized  dishful. 
Add  one  cup  of  molasses,  one  of  brown  sugar,  and 
the  yolks  of  three  eggs,  two  teaspoonfuls  of  ground 
ginger,  one  of  cinnamon,  half  a  teaspoonful  of 
cloves,  pounded  orange  peel,  and  nutmeg,  table- 
spoonful  of  butter,  half  a  teaspoonful  of  baking  soda 
mixed  with  the  molasses,  and  a  little  salt.  Mix  all 
together,  put  in  a  pan,  sprinkle  sugar  on  top,  and 
bake  brown. 

**  *  Hoppin*  John  '  is  a  dish  peculiar  to  South 
Carolina ;  I  have  never  seen  it  anywhere  else. 
It  is  made  of  cow  peas  (red  peas),  rice,  and  bacon. 
It  sounds  awfully*  plebeian  and  uninviting,  but  it 


L  Envoi.  131 

isn't.  Eat  it  once  and  you'll  always  want  a  second 
experience.  A  New  York  clergyman  residing  in 
Charleston,  S.  C,  declares  that  he  would  feel  dis- 
loyal both  to  his  stomach  and  to  .his  adopted 
home  if  he  did  not  have  *  Hoppin'  John  *  at  least 
twice  a  week. 

*'  The  peas  are  boiled  until  tender,  a  piece  of 
bacon  and  a  pod  of  red  pepper  being  boiled  with 
them.  When  done,  a  portion  of  the  liquid  is  taken 
out  and  poured  over  the  rice,  that  has  been  washed 
the  same  as  for  ordinary  cooking.  The  pea  liquor 
is  used  in  the  place  of  water.  This  is  boiled  in  a 
double  boiler  for  half  an  hour,  or  until  thoroughly 
done,  and  salted  to  taste.  When  done,  turn  out 
rice,  place  bacon  on  the  top,  and  serve  hot. 

" '  Pilau  rice,'  or  *  k  la  Creole,'  is  a  dish  known 
only  in  South  Carolina  and  New  Orleans.  The 
rice  is  boiled  with  the  water  in  which  a  ham  or 
chicken  has  been  boiled,  with  whole  allspice  and 
whole  black  pepper  added.  It  is  served  with  the 
ham  or  chicken. 

'*  *  Crab  gumbo  '  is  another  dish  fit  for  the  gods. 
Fry  two  tablespoonfuls  of  flour  in  one  of  lard  until 
the  flour  is  browned,  but  not  burned.  Add  a 
chopped  onion,  a  chopped  Irish  potato,  thyme, 
parsley,  salt,  and  red  pepper,  and  fry  a  few  min- 
utes.    Then  put  in  eight  hard  crabs  that  have  been 


132  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish. 

scalded  and  cleaned.  Add  three  pints  of  boiling 
water,  and  boil  the  whole  for  half  an  hour.  When 
ready  to  serve,  rub  a  teaspoonful  of  powdered  sas- 
safras to  a  paste,  with  a  spoonful  of  butter.  Stir 
this  in  soup  until  well  mixed  through  it,  then  pour 
in  tureen  and  serve  with  rice.  If  okra  is  used  in- 
stead of  sassafras  fillet,  it  should  be  cut  up  fine  and 
fried  with  the  lard,  flour,  and  herbs  before  putting 
in  the  crabs  and  water.  The  fillet  must  never  be 
put  in  until  dinner  is  about  to  be  served,  as  it  spoils 
quickly  by  standing  in  the  pot." 

* 

*  * 

Dean  Hole,  in  his  book  "  A  Little  Tour  In  Amer- 
ica," praises  our  food,  and  the  variety  of  it,  but 
declares  that  the  dulness  of  our  table-knives  is  an 
abomination.  He  says  also  that  our  fish  do  not 
compare  to  those  in  English  waters,  but  what  cer- 
tain fish  we  may  lack  is  very  satisfactorily  made  up 
for  by  a  variety  of  others.  We  may  not  have  sole 
or  turbot,  but  we  have  Spanish  mackerel,  terrapin, 
smelt,  pompano,  and  Lord  knows  what  not.  Our 
oysters  are  finer  and  of  better  flavor — although 
Dean  Hole,  like  Thackeray,  does  not  care  for  their 
largeness. 

*  * 

It  is  said  of  Carlyle,  a  Scotchman  of  the  old 
school,  even  after  a  long  residence  in  London,  that 


L  Envoi,  133 

he  always  clung  to  the  culinary  processes  of  Scot- 
land. The  meals  served  at  his  house  in  Cheyne  row 
are  described  as  awful  examples  of  old  Scotch  gas- 
tronomic methods.  No  cook  would  remain  with 
him  for  any  length  of  time,  and  the  revelations 
of  these  functionaries  when  they  left  his  employ 
appalled  even  natives  of  his  own  land.  Carlyle 
thought  he  knew  something  of  cookery.  A  rice 
pudding,  however,  that  he  frequently  concocted 
was  the  cause  of  many  estrangements  between 
his  friends  and  himself. 

Dr.  Johnson  ridiculed  the  cooking  of  the  Scotch, 
and  now  a  writer  in  an  article  in  the  New  Review 
calls  attention  to  the  rapid  if  not  total  disappear- 
ance of  most  of  the  national  dishes  of  Scotland. 
Tartan,  pansowdie,  scadlips,  brochan,  and  dram- 
mock  are  gone.  Even  haggis,  consisting  of  a 
minced  leg  of  mutton,  suet,  bread  crumbs,  spices, 
mushrooms,  and  red  wine,  enclosed  in  a  skin  and 
baked  in  a  quick  oven,  is  becoming  a  thing  of  the 
past. 

*  * 

It  is  claimed  that  the  insidious  and  fascinating 
*' cocktail"  was  the  invention  of  Colonel  Carter  of 
Culpeper  Court  House,  Va.  "  Many  years  ago," 
says  an  anonymous  contributor,  "  in  that  locality 
there  was  a  wayside  inn  named  *  The  Cock  and 


134  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 

Bottle,*  the  semblance  of  an  old  English  tavern, 
and  which  bore  upon  its  swinging  sign  a  cock  and 
bottle,  meaning  thereby  that  draught  and  bottled 
ale  could  be  had  within^the  'cock,'  in  old  ver- 
nacular, meaning  the  tap.  He,  therefore,  who  got 
the  last  and  muddy  portion  of  the  tap  was  said  to 
have  received  the  *  cocktail.'  Upon  one  occasion, 
when  Colonel  Carter  was  subjected  to  the  indig- 
nity of  having  this  muddy  beverage  put  before 
him,  he  threw  it  angrily  upon  the  floor  and  ex- 
claimed :  *  Hereafter  I  will  drink  cocktails  of  my 
own  brewing  ;  '  and  then  and  there,  inspired  evi- 
dently by  the  spirit  of  Ganymede,  he  dashed  to- 
gether bitters,  sugar,  the  oil  of  lemon  peel,  and 
some  old  Holland  gin,  and  thus  and  then  and  there 
was  the  original  cocktail  concocted." 

* 

Mr.  Delmonico  says  that  "  lobster  Newberg " 
was  so  called  by  him  after  a  gentleman  named 
Wenberg,  who  was  a  great  frequenter  of  the 
famous  restaurant,  and  asked  for  the  concoction 
so  often  that  it  was  finally  put  down  on  the  menu 
as  CL  la  Wenberg.  But  his  patron  not  wishing  the 
notoriety,  objected  so  seriously  that  Mr.  Delmon- 
ico finally  disguised  it  by  reversing  the  letters  of 
the  first  syllable  of  the  name. 


LEnvoL  135 

But  the  amenities  of  cooking  and  eating  obtain 
more  or  less  interest  in  comparing  the  atmosphere 
of  a  locaHty.  A  foaming  glass  of  beer  and  a 
Swiss-cheese  sandwich  made  out  of  rye  bread  are 
consumed  with  a  zest  by  a  hungry  man  in  a  Ger- 
man saloon  that  could  not  possibly  be  obtained  in 
one's  parlor.  Perhaps  beans  taste  better  in  Bos- 
ton than  they  do  in  New  York,  even  if  the  pot  is 
from  the  same  baker.  In  Syracuse,  or  rather  a 
few  miles  away  from  it  on  the  country  road,  is  a 
wayhouse  kept  by  an  Irishman,  and  it  is  a  fad 
among  the  Syracusans  to  drive  there  and  eat 
boiled  potatoes.  They  are  cooked  in  brine,  and, 
when  served,  the  jacket  has  on  a  heavy  overcoat. 
It  is  declared  that  there  have  been  many- imitators 
of  these  famous  boiled  potatoes,  but  without  suc- 
cess in  obtaining  the  delicious  flavor.  In  Buffalo 
there  is  a  woman  who  bakes  brown  bread  in  an 
old  Dutch  oven.  The  "  upper  ten  "  buy  all  she 
can  possibly  make  herself,  and  she  will  not  employ 
help.  It  has  a  peculiar  quality  of  its  own,  and 
she  has  had  many  offers  for  her  recipe.  One 
grocer  tendered  his  check  for  $2,000  simply  for 

the  use  of  it. 

* 
*  * 

I  may  some  time  possibly  aspire  to  be  a  poet  or 

a  biographer — even  a  novelist — but  if  my  expecta- 


>36 


The  Bachelor  and  the  Chafing-dish, 


tions  are  realized  in  any  way,  pointing  to  books,  I 
can  hardly  fancy  that  "  The  Bachelor  and  the  Chaf- 
ing-dish" will  ever  be  an  authority.  Perhaps  I 
am  trifling  with  my  publisher  and  my  public  alike. 
It  will  surely  be  thought  so  if,  perchance,  some 
dyspeptic  being  should  fail  in  any  one  of  the 
recipes  here  given,  and  I  may  have  much  to  answer 
for.  But  I  can  truthfully  say  that  naught  has  been 
set  down  in  malice,  and  if  some  testy  fellow  may 
upbraid  me,  I  pray  that  the  one  to  whom  I  have 
ascribed  as  my  incentive  will  forgive  with  "his 
intentions  are  well  meant !  " 

D.  W. 


INDEX 

PAGE 

Anchovy, I03 

Asparagus, II7 

Beef  k  la  Kelpie, 85 

Brandy  Mixture, 25 

Best  Cup  of  Tea,  ........  119 

Bedspread  for  Two,  a  la  Herman  Oelrichs,    .         .         .  103 

Chicken  Livers  a  la  James  Clarence  Harvey,          .         .  86 

Calf's  Liver  en  Matelote, 88 

Curried  Rice,         ........  82 

Curry  of  Meats, 83 

Calf's  Liver  and  Bacon, 84 

Chops  and  Steaks,          . 84 

Cheese  :  Cheese  Balls, 116 

*'        En  Casserole,  .         .         .  •       .         .         .         .  m 

"        Queen's  Toasted, n6 

Welsh  Rabbit, 5 

Golden  Buck, 7 

"        k  la  Savarin, 9 

"        k  la  Kitchiner, lO 

Clams  :  k  la  Newberg, 97 

"        Bisque, 98 

"        k  la  Boston, 98 

**        Croute  k  la  Halm, 98 

Corn  Oysters, 97 


13^  Index. 

PAG8 

Codfish  Stewed, 114 

Crabs  :  Commodore  Gerry, 92 

"       Soft-shell, 95 

**       Canape  Lorenzo  Delmonico,      ....  95 

**       k  la  Creole, '97 

"       Oyster, 97 

Canned  Vegetables, 118 

Chicken :  Spring, 92 

*'          a  la  Poulette, 94 

Chafed  Duck, 93 

Creamed  Shrimps,          .......  106 

Coffee,  ..........  29 

Chestnuts  and  Oysters, 114 

Deviling :  Roast  Beef,  .         .         .         .         .         .         .81 

"  Indian  Mixture, -79 

Duck,  .         . 80 

"          Kidneys, 80 

'*          Lobsters, 8« 

Eggs, 81 

Duck  Ragout, 96 

Eggs:  Omelette  with  Chestnuts, 112 

Omelette  au  Rhum, 11.2 

Omelette  Souffle, 112 

Scrambled, 109 

4  la  Celestine, 109 

Poached, no 

Fried,         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .110 

4  la  Meyerbeer, no 

Omelette, 112 

ila'*D.  W.," Ill 


Index,  139 

PAGE 

Eggs  :  k  la  Savarin, 113 

*'      with  Macaroni," Ill 

**      in  Marinade, 1 13 

*'      a  la  Powerscourt,        • 114 

*'      with  Ham, II4 

Entree  of  Veal  Cutlet, 89 

Fish  :  Smelts, '  .  103 

Perch, 104 

"      Salmon,  Kippered, 104 

"      Frying  k  la  Savarin,    ,         .         .         .         .         .  107 

Howard's  Hash, 91 

Hash  ^  la  Murrey, 91 

Kidneys  with  Potatoes, 90 

Kidneys  and  Eggs, 89 

Kidneys  and  Mushrooms, 88 

Lobster  ^  la  Newberg, 107 

Lamb  Chops, ,         ,         .       89 

Mock  Venison  4  la  Murrey,   ......       85 

Mushrooms, 13 

Oysters :  Fried, 99 

"       Stewed, 99 

*'       i  la  G.  T.  Davidson, 100 

*'        i  la  John  Chamberlin, lOO 

"        Maitre  d'Hotel, loi 

*'       k  la  Newberg, loi 

•'        Rabbit, 102 

•'       in  a  Loaf, 102 

'*       Creamed,  i  la  Eugene  McCarthy,  .        .        .121 

Potatoes  :  Boiled, 117 

Fried .  117 


I4d  Indent. 

Pag6 
Potatoes:  Stewed,  .  ,  .  «  •  *  .ny 
Pork  Cutlets,  ....•,..       89 

Rissoles  of  Lobster,        .•..,..     i!o6 

Rice  Compote, 84 

Shad  Roe, 104 

Sausage, i»i         .         .         .       86 

Sardines  k  la  G.  T.  Davidson, 105 

Salads  :  Lettuce,  etc. , 69 

"         Winter,  a  la  Sidney  Smith,       ....       70 

•*        d  la  Dumas, 71 

**         Potato, 72 

•'        Lobster, 72 

Sauces :  Mayonnaise, 73 

'*         i  ritalienne, 73 

*'         Tartare, .         .76 

*'         Maitre  d'Hotel,        .         .         .         .         .         .76 

**         French  Dressing, 74 

**         Perigueux, 76 

•'         Robert, 77 

'*         Chutney, 77 

•'         Epicurean, 78 

*'         Bordelaise, ,         .76 

**         Financiere, 77 

Scallops, 108 

Soups, .     118 

Scotch  Woodcock, 104 

Salmi,  92 

Stewing  k  la  Marengo, 92 

Sweetbreads:  ^  la  Roumage, 87 

Larded.  86 


index.  14 1 

PAGE 

Sweetbreads  with  Peas, 87 

Spaghetti, ,        ...  120 

Sardines  a  I'Indienne,    . 106 

Scotch  Haggis, iS 

Steak  Gollasch, 90 

Savarin's  Fondue, 115 

"       Soup, 118 

Turtle  Steak  i  la  Henry  Guy  Carleton,  .         .         .108 

Tenderloin  Steak, 90 

Terrapin  i  la  Maryland, 105 

Thackeray's  Bouillabaisse,     .         ,         •         •         .         .  108 

Violet  Luncheon 120 


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BY  ROBERT  W.  CHAMBERS. 


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is  a  masterpiece.  ...  I  have  read  many  portions  sev- 
eral times,  captivated  by  the  unapproachable  tints  of  the 
painting.  None  but  a  genius  of  the  highest  order  could 
do  such  work." 
N.  Y.  Commercial  «'  The  short  prose  tale  should  be  a  syn- 
Advertiser  thesis  ;  it  was  the  art  of  Edgar  Poe, 

it  is  the  art  of  Mr.  Chambers.  .  .  .  His  is  beyond  ques- 
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notable  contribution  to  literature  which  has  come  from  an 
American  publisher  for  many  years  ;  and  fine  as  the  ac- 
complishment is, '  The  King  in  Yellow '  is  large  in  promise. 
One  has  a  right  to  expect  a  great  deal  from  an  author  of 
this  calibre." 
Timeg-  "  The  most  eccentric  little  volume  of  its  (little) 
Herald  day.    'The  King  in  Yellow '  is  subtly  fascinat- 

ing, and  compels  attention  for  its  style  and  its  wealth  of 
strange,  Imaginative  force." 
New  York       "Mr.  Robert  W.  Chambers  does  not  have  a 
Timies  system  to  work  up  to ;  he  has  no  fad,  save  a 

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painting  pictures  of  romance  that  have  a  wild  inspiration 
about  them.  Descriptive  powers  of  no  mean  quality  are 
perceptible  in  this  volume  of  stories." 
The  N,  Y.  **Mr.  Chambers  has  a  great  command  of 
World  words;  he  is  a  good  painter.    His  situations 

are  most  delicately  touched,  and  some  of  his  descriptions 
are  exquisite.  He  writes  like  an  artist.  He  uses  colors 
rather  than  ideas.  .  .  .  The  best  drama  in  the  volume 
means  madness.  The  tenderest  fancy  is  a  sad  mirage. 
.  .  .  '  The  King  in  Yellow '  is  a  very  interesting  contri- 
bution to  the  present  fund  of  materio-mysticism.  .  .  . 
To  read  Mr.  Chambers'  little  book  is  to  escape  from  the  ac- 
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Minneapolis  "They  have  a  mysterious,  eerie  air  about 
Tribune  them  that  is  apt  to  stimulate  the  reader's 

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Philadelphia       "  Charming,  delicate,  skillful,  vivid." 
Times 

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Gazette  weird,  uncanny,  picturesque,  and  yet  a  gem 

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Journal 

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OYSTERS      IN     A     CHAFING-DISH. 


The  chafing  dish  is  especially  nice  for 
cooking  the  oyster.  A  few  receipts  may 
be  acceptable. 

For  panned  oysters-^When  the  dish  'be- 
comes hot  put  in  two  tablespoonfuls  of 
butter,  add  two  dozen  oysters,  half  a  cup 
of  cream  on  oyster  liquor,  salt  and  pap- 
rika to  taste,  cover  the  dish  and  cook 
three  minutes.  Turn  the  oysters  upon 
squares  of  buttered  toast. 

Another  way  to  pan  oysters — ^Malt  a 
large  tablespoonful  of  butter  in  the  heat- 
ed dish,  put  in  a  teaspoonful  of  flour,  and 
stir  until  it  is  well  bl^^nded.  Add  oysters 
/  enough  to  cover  the  bottom  of  the  dish 
!i  -witiiout  crowding,  and  stason  v/ith  salt 
and  cayenne  pepper.  Cover  the  dish  and 
!  cook  the  oysters  until  the  edges  are  ruf- 
I  fled,  stirring  them  to  have  both  sides 
i  cook  alike.  Pour  over  the  oysters  a 
I  coijple  of  spoonfuls  of  s'herry  and  serve 
}  on  pieces  of  crisp  toast. 
>\  Another  method  is  this — Put  in  a  cha- 
I  fing  dish  a  tablespoonful  of  butter,  and 
Ji  when  it  is  melted  add  a  dozen  and  a  half 
;;  large  oysters.  Scatter  over  the  oysters 
^;  some  finely  chopped  celery,  sailt  and  cay- 
I  enne  pepper.  Cover  the  dish  and  cook 
j  until  the  oysters  are  plump  and  the  edges  | 
i|  rufiled.  Then  pour  over  them  two  table-  ' 
'i  spoonfuls  of  lemon  juice  and  serve  on 
i  toasted  crackers. 

j  For  a  curry  of  oysters— -Put  one  table- 
.;  spoonful  of  butter  in  the  heated  dish. 
i  When  it  is  melted  stir  in  one  tablespoon- 
i  ful  of  grated  onion,  ihe  same  amount  of 
1  flour  and  a  teaspoonful  of  curry  powder.  | 
j  Gradually  stir  in  a  cup  of  oy.^ter  liquor 


and  stir  until  it  thickens,  add  two  dozen 
oysters  and  season  with  salt.  Cover  the 
dish  an4  cook  about  two  minutes  and 
serve. 

Crea-med  oysters— Put  one  tablespoon- 
ful of  butter  into  the  chafing  dish  ar.d 
stir  into  it  the  same  quantity  of  flour. 
When  they  are  frothy  add  one  cup  of 
cream  and  let  the  mixture  come  to  a  boil, 
then  stir  in  one  and  a  half  dozen  oysters 
that  have  been  heated  to  a  boiling  point 
in  their  own  liquor  and  drained.  Add 
one  egg  well  beaten  and  two  tablespoon- 
fuls of  sherry  or  not,  as  one  may  desire. 
As  soon  as  the  eg-g  is  stirred  in  cover  the 
burner   and   serve. 

For  oyster  saute — Put  two  ta/blespoon- 
fuls  of  butter  in  the  dish,  and  when  hot 
put  a  single  layer  of  large,  well-drained 
oysters  in  the  bottom  of  the  dish.  When 
(browned  on  one  side  turn  them  and 
brown  upon  the  other,  adding  more  but- 
ter if  it  is  needed.  Season  with  salt  and 
paprika,  and  serve  -with  toasted  crackers 
and  sliced  lemon. 


^ 


